HELD  TO  ANSWER 


PETER.  CLARK  MACFAR1ANE 


HELD  TO  ANSWER 


Follow  your  star,  John,"  Bessie  declared  stoutly. 
FRONTISPIECE.  "  See  page  82. 


HELD  TO  ANSWER 


A  NOVEL 


BY 

PETER  CLARK  MACFARLANE 

AUTHOR  OF  "THOSE  WHO  HAVE  COME  BACK,"  ETC. 


WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS    BY 

W.  B.  KING 


BOSTON 

LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY 
1916 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXIX    THE  ANGEL  ADVISES 332 

XXX    THE  SCENE  IN  THE  VAULT 341 

XXXI    A  MISADVENTURE 358 

XXXII  THE  COWARD  AND  His  CONSCIENCE      .     .     .  366 

XXXIII  THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  HEADLINES 378 

XXXIV  A  WAY  THAT  WOMEN  HAVE 391 

XXXV  ON  PRELIMINARY  EXAMINATION     ....  400 

XXXVI    A  PROMISE  OF  STRENGTH 430 

XXXVII    THE  TERMS  OF  SURRENDER 441 

XXXVIII     SUNDAY  IN  ALL  PEOPLE'S 463 

XXXIX    THE  CUP  Too  FULL 472 

XL    THE  ELDER  IN  THE  CHAIR 491 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


"  FOLLOW  YOUR  STAR,  JOHN,"  BESSIE  DECLARED 

STOUTLY  .....          Frontispiece 

HE  FELT     STRICKEN,     BROKEN,     OVERWHELMED     .  PAGE      26 

A  FOOLISH  QUIVER  PASSED  OVER  HIM  AND  SHOOK 

HIM  TILL  HE  ACTUALLY  TREMBLED    .         .  46 
"  DON'T  SPEAK  TO  ME,  DON'T  !  "  SHE  COMMANDED 

HOARSELY            ...                           .  184 

"YOU    NAILED    IT    UP,"    REBUTTED    JOHN    FLATLY  "          194 

"  THAT  MAN  is  INNOCENT  "  .          .          .  "       509 


HELD  TO  ANSWER 

CHAPTER  I 

THE   FACE   THAT   DID   frOT    FIT 

Two  well-dressed  men  waited  outside  the  rail  on  what 
was  facetiously  denominated  the  mourners'  bench.  One 
was  a  packer  of  olives,  the  other  the  owner  of  oil  wells. 
A  third,  an  orange  shipper,  leaned  against  the  rail,  pull 
ing  at  his  red  moustaches  and  yearning  wistfully  across 
at  a  wattle-throated  person  behind  the  roll-top  desk  who 
was  talking  impatiently  on  the  telephone.  Just  as  the 
receiver  was  hung  up  with  an  audible  click,  a  buzzer  on 
the  wall  croaked  harshly, —  one  long  and  two  short 
croaks. 

Instantly  there  was  a  scuffling  of  feet  upon  the  lino 
leum  over  in  a  corner,  where  mail  was  being  opened  by  a 
huge  young  fellow  with  the  profile  of  a  mountain  and  a 
gale  of  tawny  hair  blown  up  from  his  brow.  Undoubling 
suddenly,  this  rangy  figure  of  a  man  shot  upward  with 
Jack-in-the-box  abruptness  and  a  violence  which  threat 
ened  the  stability  of  both  the  desk  before  him  and  the 
absurdly  small  typewriter  stand  upon  his  left.  Seizing 
a  select  portion  of  the  correspondence,  he  lunged  past  the 
roll-top  desk  of  Heitmuller,  the  chief  clerk,  and  aimed  to 
ward  the  double  doors  of  grained  oak  which  loomed  be 
hind.  But  his  progress  was  grotesque,  for  he  careened 
like  a  camel  when  he  walked.  In  the  first  stride  or  two 
these  careenings  only  threatened  to  be  dangerous,  but  in 


:  TO'  ANSWER 


the  third  or  fourth  they  made  good  their  promise.  One 
lurching  hip  joint  banged  the  drawn-out  leaf  of  the  chief 
clerk's  desk,  sweeping  a  shower  of  papers  to  the  floor. 

"  John  —  dammit  !  "  snapped  Heitmuller  irritably. 
The  other  hip  caracoled  against  the  unopened  half  of  the 
double  doors  as  John  yawed  through.  The  door  com 
plained  loudly,  rattling  upon  its  hinges  and  in  its  brazen 
sockets,  so  that  for  a  moment  there  was  clatter  and  dis 
turbance  from  one  end  of  the  office  to  the  other. 

The  orange  shipper  started  nervously,  and  the  chief 
clerk,  cocking  his  head  gander-wise,  gazed  in  disgust  at 
the  confusion  on  the  floor,  while  far  within  Robert 
Mitchell,  the  General  Freight  Agent  of  the  California 
Consolidated  Railway,  lifted  a  massive  face  from  his  desk 
with  a  look  of  mild  reproof  in  his  small  blue  eyes. 

Yet  when  the  huge  stenographer  came  back,  and  with 
another  scuffling  of  clumsy  feet  stooped  to  retrieve  the 
litter  about  Heitmuller's  revolving  chair,  he  seemed  so 
regretful  and  his  features  lighted  with  such  a  helplessly 
apologetic  smile  that  even  his  awkwardness  appeared 
commendable,  since  it  was  so  obviously  seasoned  with  the 
grace  of  perfectly  good  intent. 

Appreciation  of  this  was  advertised  in  the  forgiving 
chuckle  of  the  chief  clerk  who,  standing  now  at  the  rail, 
remarked  sotto  voce  to  the  orange  shipper:  "  John  is  as 
good  as  a  vaudeville  act  !  " 

At  this  the  red  moustaches  undulated  appreciatively, 
while  the  two  "  mourners  "  laughed  so  audibly  that  the 
awkward  man,  once  more  in  his  chair,  darted  an  embar 
rassed  glance  at  them,  and  the  red  flush  came  again  to  his 
face.  He  suspected  they  were  laughing  at  him,  and  as 
if  to  comfort  himself,  a  finger  and  thumb  went  into  his 
right  vest  pocket  and  drew  out  a  clipping  from  the  adver 
tising  columns  of  the  morning  paper.  Holding  it  deep  in 
his  hand,  he  read  furtively: 


THE  FACE  THAT  DID  NOT  FIT  3 

ACTING  TAUGHT.  Charles  Kenton,  character  actor, 
temporarily  disengaged,  will  receive  a  few  select  pupils 
in  dramatic  expression  at  his  studio  in  The  Albemarle. 
Terms  reasonable. 

Then  John  looked  across  aggressively  at  the  men  who 
had  laughed.  They  were  not  laughing  now,  but  nodding 
in  his  direction,  and  whispering  busily. 

What  were  they  saying?  That  he  was  a  joke,  a  fail 
ure  ?  That  he  had  been  in  this  chair  seven  years  ?  That 
he  was  a  big,  snubbed,  defeated,  over-worked  handy-man 
about  this  big,  loosely  organized  office?  That  in  seven 
years  he  had  neither  been  able  to  get  himself  promoted 
nor  discharged?  No  doubt! 

As  if  to  get  away  from  the  thought,  John  turned  from 
his  typewriter  to  the  open  window  and  looked  out.  There 
was  the  spire  of  the  grand  old  First  Church  down  there 
below  him.  Yonder  were  the  sky-notching  business 
blocks  of  the  pushing  city  of  Los  Angeles,  as  it  was  in  the 
early  nineteen  hundreds.  There,  too,  were  the  villa- 
crowned  heights  to  the  north,  shut  in  at  last  by  the 
barren  ridges  of  the  Sierra  Madre  Mountains,  some  of 
which,  in  this  month  of  January,  were  snow-capped. 

But  here  were  these  foolish  men  still  nodding  and  whis 
pering.  Good  fellows,  too,  but  blind.  What  did  they 
know  about  him  really? 

They  knew  that  he  was  a  stenographer,  but  they  did 
not  know  that  he  was  a  stenographer  to  the  glory  of  God ! 
—  one  who  cleaned  his  typewriter,  dusted  his  desk,  opened 
the  mail,  wrote  his  letters,  ate,  walked,  slept,  all  to  the 
honor  of  his  creator  —  that  the  whole  of  life  to  him  was 
a  sort  of  sacrament. 

They  thought  he  was  beaten  and  discouraged,  an  in 
dustrial  slave,  drawn  helplessly  into  the  cogs.  They, 
poor,  purblind  materialists,  were  without  vision.  They 
did  not  know  that  there  were  finer  things  than  pickles  and 


4  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

crude  oil.  They  did  not  know  that  he  was  to  soar;  that 
already  his  wings  were  budding,  nor  that  he  lived  in  an 
inner  state  of  spiritual  exaltation  as  delicious  as  it  was 
unsuspected.  They  pitied  him;  they  laughed  commis- 
eratingly.  He  did  not  want  their  commiseration;  he 
spurned  their  laughter  and  their  pity.  He  was  full  of 
youth  and  the  exuberance  of  hope.  He  was  full  of  an 
expanding  strength  that  made  him  stronger  as  his  dream 
grew  brighter.  Only  his  eyes  were  tired.  The  cross 
lights  were  bad.  For  a  moment  he  shaded  his  brow  ten 
derly  with  his  hand,  reflecting  that  he  must  hereafter  use 
an  eye-shade  by  day  as  methodically  he  used  one  in  his 
nightly  study. 

The  morning  moved  along.  The  yearning  orange 
shipper  went  away.  One  mourner  rose  and  passed  inside. 
The  other  waited  impatiently  for  his  turn  to  do  the  same. 
Luncheon  time  came  for  John,  and  he  ate  it  in  the  file 
room  —  ravenously ;  and  while  he  ate  he  read  —  the  Con 
gressional  Record;  and  reading,  made  notations  on  the 
margin,  for  John  was  preparing  for  what  he  was  pre 
paring,  although  he  did  not  quite  know  what.  The  train 
of  destiny  was  rumbling  along,  and  when  it  stopped  at  his 
station,  he  proposed  to  swing  on  board. 

His  luncheon  down  swiftly,  as  much  through  hunger  as 
through  haste,  he  swung  out  of  the  door,  bound  for 
Charles  Kenton,  "actor  —  temporarily  disengaged  — 
Hotel  Albemarle  —  terms  reasonable,"  moving  with  such 
headlong  speed  that  he  was  soon  within  that  self-important 
presence. 

"  Hampstead  is  my  name,"  he  blurted,  with  clumsy 
directness,  "  John  Hampstead,"  and  the  interview  with 
Destiny  was  on. 

"  The  first  trouble  with  you,"  declared  the  white-haired 
actor  critically,  "  is  that  your  face  doesn't  fit." 

John  wet  a  lip  and  hitched  a  nervous  leg,  but  sat  awk- 


THE  FACE  THAT  DID  NOT  FIT  5 

wardly  silent,  his  eyes  boring  hungrily,  as  if  waiting  for 
more.  The  actor,  however,  was  slow  to  add  more. 
Faces  were  his  enthusiasm,  as  well  as  the  raw  material  of 
his  profession,  but  this  face  puzzled  him,  so  that  before 
committing  himself  further  he  paused  to  survey  it  again: 
the  strong  nose  with  its  hump  of  energy,  the  well  but 
tressed  chin,  and  then  the  broad  forehead  with  its  un 
usually  thick,  bony  ridge  encircling  the  base  of  the  brows 
like  a  bilge  keel,  proclaiming  loudly  that  here  was  a  man 
with  racial  dynamite  in  his  system,  one  who,  whatever  else 
he  might  become,  was  now  and  always  a  first-class  ani 
mal. 

The  eyebrows  heightened  this  suggestion  by  being 
thick  and  yellow,  and  sweeping  off  to  the  temples  in  a 
scroll-like  flare.  The  forehead  itself  was  broad,  but 
gathered  a  high  look  from  that  welter  of  tawny  hair 
which  was  roached  straight  up  and  back,  giving  the  effect 
of  one  who  plunges  headlong. 

But  the  eyes  completely  modified  the  countenance. 
They  did  not  plunge.  They  halted  and  beamed  softly. 
Gray  and  deep-seated,  they  made  all  that  face's  force  the 
force  of  tenderness,  by  burning  with  a  light  that  was 
obviously  inner  and  spiritual.  The  mouth,  again,  while 
as  cleanly  chiseled  as  if  cut  from  marble, —  sensitive,  im 
pressionistic,  fine,  was,  alas!  weak;  or  if  not  weak,  ad 
vertising  weakness  by  an  habitual  expression  of  lax 
amiability;  although  along  with  this  the  actor  noted  that 
the  two  lips,  buttoning  so  loosely  at  the  corners,  could 
none  the  less  collaborate  in  a  most  engaging  smile. 

Kenton  concluded  his  second  appraisal  with  a  little  ges 
ture  of  impatience.  The  man's  features  gave  each  other 
the  lie  direct,  and  that  was  all. there  was  to  it.  They 
said:  This  man  is  a  beast,  a  great,  roaring  lion  of  a 
man ;  and  then  they  said :  No,  this  lion  is  a  lamb,  a  mild, 
dreamy,  sucking  dove  sort  of  person. 


6  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  That's  it,"  he  iterated.     "  Your  face  doesn't  fit." 

Hampstead  did  not  wince. 

"  The  question  is,"  he  proposed,  in  a  voice  husky  with 
a  mixture  of  embarrassment  and  determination,  "  how 
am  I  to  make  it  fit?  Or,  failing  that,  how  am  I  to  get 
somewhere  with  a  face  that  doesn't  fit  ?  " 

The  actor's  reply  was  half  sagacity,  half  "  selling 
talk ",  mixed  with  some  judicious  flattery  and  tinged 
with  inevitable  gallery  play,  although  there  was  no  gal 
lery. 

"  Elocution  ?  "  Kenton  observed,  with  a  little  grimace 
of  derision.  "No!  Oratory?  Not  at  all!"  The 
weight  of  his  withering  scorn  was  tremendous.  "  There 
are  no  such  things.  It  is  all  acting !  A  man  speaks  with 
the  whole  of  himself  —  his  eyes,  his  mouth,  his  body,  his 
walk,  his  pose  —  everything.  That's  what  you  need  to 
learn.  Self-expression!  I  can  make  your  face  fit. 
That's  simple  enough,"  and  Kenton  waved  his  hand  as  if 
the- re-stamping  of  a  man's  features  was  the  easiest  thing 
he  did.  "  I  can  make  your  body  graceful.  I  can  take 
that  voice  of  yours  and  make  it  strong  as  the  roar  of  a 
bull,  and  as  soft  as  rich,  brown  velvet.  Yes,"  and  the 
actor  leaped  to  his  feet  in  growing  enthusiasm,  "  I  can 
make  'em  all  respond  to  every  whim  of  what's  passing 
inside.  But,"  he  asked  suddenly,  with  a  penetrating 
glance,  "will  that  make  an  orator  of  you?  Well,  that 
depends  on  what's  passing  inside.  It  takes  a  great  soul 
to  make  an  orator  —  great  imagination,  mind,  feelings, 
sentiments.  Have  you  got  'em?  I  doubt  it!  I  doubt 
it!" 

The  old  man  confirmed  his  dubiousness  with  the  un 
complimentary  emphasis  of  hesitating  silence.  In  the  sin 
cerity  of  his  critical  analysis,  he  had  forgotten  that  he  was 
trying  to  secure  a  pupil.  "  And  yet  —  and  yet  — "  his 
eye  began  to  kindle  as  he  looked,  "  I  tell  you  I  don't  know, 


THE  FACE  THAT  DID  NOT  FIT  7 

boy  —  there's  something  —  there  might  be  something  be 
hind  that  face  of  yours.  It  might  come  out,  you  know, 
it  might  come  out!" 

Kenton  drawled  the  last  words  out  slowly  in  a  deeply 
speculative  tone,  and  then  asked  abruptly :  "  How  old 
are  you?  " 

"  Twenty-four,"  admitted  John,  feeling  suddenly  as  if 
he  confessed  the  years  of  Methuselah. 

But  the  dark  eyes  of  the  old  actor  sparkled,  and  his 
long,  mobile  lips  parted  in  the  ghost  of  a  sigh  which  crept 
out  through  teeth  stained  yellow  by  years  and  tobacco, 
after  which  he  ejaculated  admiringly :  "  My  God,  but 
you  are  young !  " 

This  came  as  an  inspiring  thought  to  John.  He  did 
feel  young,  all  but  his  eyes.  What  was  the  matter  with 
them  that  the  lids  were  so  woodeny  of  late  ?  Yes ;  he  was 
young,  despite  seven  submerged  years,  and  the  wings  of 
his  soul  were  preening. 

Back  in  the  General  Freight  Office,  John  fell  upon  his 
work  with  happy  vigor.  Spat,  spat,  spat,  and  a  letter  was 
on  its  way  from  Dear  Sir  to  Yours  truly.  But  in  the 
midst  of  these  spattings,  he  paused  to  muse. 

"  Kenton  said  he  could  make  me  graceful,"  the  big  fel 
low  was  communing  over  his  typewriter,  when  abruptly 
the  outer  door  opened  and,  after  a  single  glance,  John  ap 
peared  to  forget  both  his  communings  and  his  work. 
Swinging  about,  he  sat  transfixed,  his  odd  features  turned 
eccentrically  handsome  by  a  light  of  adoration  which  be 
gan  to  glow  upon  them,  as  if  an  astral  presence  had  en 
tered. 

Yet  to  the  unprejudiced  observer  the  newcomer  was  no 
heavenly  being,  but  a  mere  schoolgirl,  whose  dress  had 
not  been  long  at  the  shoe-top  stage.  With  a  swish  of 
skirts  and  an  excited  ripple  of  laughter,  she  had  burst  in 
like  a  breeze  of  youth  itself.  But  to  this  breeziness  of 


8  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

youth  the  young  lady  added  the  indefinable  thing  called 
charm,  and  the  promise  of  greater  charm  to  come.  She 
was  already  tall  and  would  be  taller,  fair  to  look  upon  and 
certain  to  be  fairer.  To  a  dress  of  some  warm  red  color, 
a  touch  of  piquancy  was  added  by  a  Tam-o'-Shanter  cap 
of  plaid  that  was  itself  pushed  jauntily  to  one  side  by  a 
wealth  of  crinkly  brown  hair;  while  a  bit  of  soft  brown 
fur  encircled  the  neck  and  cuddled  affectionately  as  a  kit 
ten  under  the  smooth,  plump  chin.  The  face  was  oval 
with  a  tendency  to  fullness,  and  the  nose,  while  by  no 
means  retrousse,  was  as  distinctively  Irish  as  the  sparkle 
in  the  blue  of  her  laughing  eyes.  Irish,  too,  were  the 
smiling  lips,  but  the  delicious  dimples  that  flecked  the 
white  and  red  of  her  cheeks  were  entirely  without  nation 
ality.  They  were  just  woman,  budding,  ravishing 
woman ;  and  there  is  no  doubt  whatever  that  they  helped 
to  make  the  fascination  of  that  merry  face  complete,  when 
its  spell  was  cast  over  the  soul  of  Hampstead. 

"Oh,  John!"  exclaimed  the  young  lady  with  impul 
sive  familiarity,  bounding  through  the  gate  and  over  to 
his  side,  "  I  want  you  to  write  some  invitations  for  me. 
This  is  my  week  to  entertain  the  Phrosos.  See!  Isn't 
the  paper  dear  ?  " 

There  were  caresses  in  the  big  man's  eyes  as  the  girl 
drew  near,  but  he  replied  with  less  freedom  than  her  own 
form  of  address  invited:  "Good  afternoon,  Miss 
Bessie." 

The  restraint  in  his  speech  however  was  much  in  con 
trast  to  the  bold  poaching  of  his  eyes.  But  Bessie  ap 
peared  to  notice  neither  restraint  nor  the  boldness  as, 
standing  by  his  desk,  with  the  big  man  looking  on  inter 
estedly,  she  undid  the  package  in  her  hand. 

The  picture  of  frank  and  simple  comradeship  so  im 
mediately  established  proclaimed  a  certain  mutual  un- 
awareness  between  this  pretty,  half -developed  girl  and 


THE  FACE  THAT  DID  NOT  FIT  9 

this  big,  una wakened  man  that  was  as  delightful  to  con 
template  as  it  evidently  was  to  enjoy. 

"Isn't  it  darling?"  the  girl  demanded  again,  having 
exposed  to  view  the  contents  of  her  box,  invitation  paper 
with  envelopes  to  match,  in  color  as  pink  as  her  own 
cheeks. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Bessie,  it  is  dear,"  John  concurred  placidly. 

"  But  you  are  not  looking  at  it,"  protested  the  girl. 

"  No,"  the  awkward  man  confessed,  but  entirely  un 
abashed,  "  I  am  looking  at  you  —  devouringly." 

"  Well,  you  needn't,"  Bessie  answered  spicily. 

"  Yes,  I  need,"  John  declared  coolly.  "  You  do  not 
know  how  much  I  need.  You  are  the  only  unspoiled 
human  being  I  ever  see  in  this  office." 

"  Old  Heit  does  look  rather  shopworn,"  Bessie  whis 
pered  roguishly.  "  But,  look  here,"  and  she  thrust  out 
her  lips  in  a  pout  that  was  at  once  defiant  and  tantalizing, 
while  her  eyes  rested  for  a  moment  upon  the  closed 
double  doors :  "  My  father  is  an  unspoiled  human  be 
ing." 

"What  have  you  been  doing  to  your  hair?"  Hamp- 
stead  demanded  critically,  refusing  to  be  diverted. 

"  Doing  it  up,  of  course,  as  grown  women  should," 
she  vouchsafed  with  emphasis.  "  Don't  you  like  it  ?  " 

With  a  flash  of  her  two  hands,  one  of  which  snatched 
out  a  pin  while  the  other  swept  off  the  plaid  cap,  she  spun 
herself  rapidly  about  so  that  John  might  view  the  new 
coiffure  from  all  angles. 

"  Oh,  of  course,  I  have  to  like  it,"  he  said,  with  mock 
mournfulness.  "  I  have  to  like  anything  you  do,  be 
cause  I  like  you,  and  because  you  are  my  boss's  boss ;  but 
I  am  sorry  to  lose  the  thick  braids  down  your  back,  with 
that  delicious  little  velvety  tuft  at  the  end  that  I  used  to 
catch  up  and  tickle  your  ear  with  in  the  long,  long 
ago." 


io  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  But  how  long  ago  was  that,  Sir  Critical  ?  "  challenged 
Bessie. 

"  Long,  long  ago,"  affirmed  Hampstead,  with  another 
of  his  humorous  sighs,  "  when  it  was  a  part  of  my  duty 
to  take  you  to  the  circus  and  buy  you  peanuts  and  lemon 
ade  of  a  color  to  match  your  cheeks.'7 

"  And  that,"  dissented  the  young  lady  triumphantly, 
"  was  only  last  September,  and  the  one  before  that,  and, 
in  fact,  almost  every  circus  day  since  I  can  remember." 

"  But  now  that  you  are  doing  your  hair  up  high,  you 
will  not  need  me  to  take  you  to  the  circus  again." 

This  time  the  note  of  sadness  in  Hampstead's  voice  wras 
genuine,  whereat  all  the  loyalty  in  the  soul  of  Bessie 
leaped  up. 

"  You  shall,"  she  declared,  with  an  impulsive  sweetness 
of  manner,  while  she  leaned  close  and  added  in  a  whisper 
that  made  the  assurance  deliciously  confidential  — "  as 
long  as  you  wish." 

"  Then  I  shall  do  it  forever,"  declared  John  recklessly. 

"  However,"  and  Miss  Elizabeth  Mitchell,  with  a  play 
ful  acquisition  of  dignity,  switched  the  subject  abruptly 
by  announcing  briskly,  "  business  before  circuses." 

"  Phrosos  before  rhinos,  as  it  were,"  consented  John. 

"  Yes  —  now  take  your  pencil  and  let  me  dictate." 

"  But,"  bantered  John,  "  I  allow  no  woman  to  dictate 
to  me.  Besides,  I  write  a  perfectly  horrible  hand." 

"  Oh,"  explained  Bessie,  "  but  I  want  them  on  the 
typewriter.  It'll  make  the  other  girls  wild.  None  of 
them  can  command  a  typewriter." 

"  Yet,"  protested  Hampstead,  "  overlooking  for  the  mo 
ment  the  offensiveness  in  that  word  '  command ',  I  ven 
ture  to  suggest,  Miss  Mitchell,  that  things  are  not  done 
that  way  this  year.  A  typewritten  invitation  isn't  con 
sidered  good  form  in  the  best  circles." 

"  I    don't    care ;    we'll    have    'em,"    declared    Bessie. 


THE  FACE  THAT  DID  NOT  FIT  II 

"  We'll  set  a  new  fashion."  Her  little  foot  smote  the 
floor  sharply,  and  she  stood  bolt  upright,  so  upright  that 
she  leaned  back,  gazing  at  John  through  austere  lashes, 
her  face  lengthening  till  the  dimples  disappeared,  while 
the  Cupid's  bow  of  her  lips  became  almost  a  memory. 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  weakened  Hampstead,  bowing  his 
head,  "  I  cannot  brook  that  gaze  for  long.  It  shall  be 
as  your  Grace  commands." 

"Tired,  aren't  you?"  commented  Bessie,  suddenly 
mollified,  and  scanning  the  big  face  narrowly,  while  a 
look  of  soberness  came  into  her  eyes.  "  I  can  see  it;  and 
your  eyes  look  bad  —  very  bad,  John."  Her  voice  was 
girlishly  sympathetic.  "  These  people  do  not  appreciate 
you,  either.  But  I  do !  I  know !  "  and  she  nodded  her 
round  chin  stoutly,  while  she  laid  a  hand  upon  the  arm 
of  this  man  who,  seven  years  her  senior,  was  in  some 
respects  her  junior.  "  You  are  a  very  great  man  in  the 
day  of  his  obscurity.  It  will  come  out  some  time.  You 
will  be  General  Manager  of  the  railroad,  or  something 
very,  very  big.  .Won't  you?  "  and  she  leaned  close  again 
with  that  delightfully  confidential  whisper. 

"  I  admit  it,"  confessed  John,  with  a  happy  chuckle. 

But  Bessie's  restless  eye  had  fallen  upon  the  clock. 
"  Pickles  and  artichokes !  "  she  exclaimed,  with  a  sudden 
change  of  mood,  "  I  must  flit." 

Snatching  from  her  bag  a  crumpled  note,  she  tossed 
it  on  the  desk,  calling  back :  "  Here.  This  is  what  I 
want  to  say  to  'em." 

Hampstead  sat  for  a  moment  looking  after  her,  his  lips 
parted,  his  great  hands  set  upon  his  knees  with  fingers 
sprawled  very  widely,  until  Bessie  was  out  of  view  be 
hind  the  double  doors  that  admitted  to  her  father's  pres 
ence. 


CHAPTER  II 

ONE   MAN   AND   ANOTHER 

IN  the  dusk  of  the  early  winter's  night  in  that  land 
where  winter  hints  its  presence  but  slightly  in  any  other 
way,  two  children  dashed  out  of  a  rambling  shell  of  a 
cottage  that  sprawled  rather  hopelessly  over  an  unkempt 
lot,  screaming:  "Uncle  John!  Uncle  John!" 

Roused  from  castled,  starry  dreams,  the  big  stenog 
rapher,  who  had  been  enjoying  the  feel  of  the  dark  upon 
his  eyes,  and  the  occasional  happy  fragrance  of  orange 
blossoms  in  his  nostrils,  greeted  each  with  a  bear  hug, 
and  the  three  clattered  together  up  the  rickety  steps  into 
a  tiny  hall.  On  the  left  was  an  oblong  room,  and  beyond 
it,  through  curtains,  appeared  a  table  set  for  dinner. 
Light  streaming  in  from  this  second  room  revealed  the 
first  as  a  sort  of  parlor-studio,  where  a  piano,  a  lounge, 
easels,  malsticks,  palates,  and  stacks  of  unframed  can 
vases  jostled  each  other  indifferently.  An  inspection 
would  have  shown  that  these  pictures  were  mostly  land 
scapes,  with  now  and  then  a  flower  study  in  brilliant 
colors ;  and  to  the  practised  eye  a  distressing  atmosphere 
of  failure  would  have  obtruded  from  every  one. 

From  somewhere  beyond  the  dining  room  came  the 
odor  of  cooking  food,  and  the  sound  of  energetic  but 
heavy  footsteps. 

"  Hello,  Rose,"  called  John  cheerily. 

At  the  moment  a  woman  came  into  view,  bearing  a 
steaming  platter.  She  was  large  of  frame,  with  gray 
eyes,  with  straight  light  hair,  fair  wide  brow,  and  fea- 


ONE  MAN  AND  ANOTHER  13 

tures  that  showed  a  general  resemblance  to  Hampstead's 
own.  Her  face  had  a  weary,  disturbed  look,  but  lighted 
for  a  moment  at  the  sight  of  her  brother. 

Depositing  the  platter  upon  the  table,  the  woman  sank 
heavily  into  a  chair  at  the  end,  where  she  began  imme 
diately  to  serve  the  plates.  The  children,  a  girl  and  a 
boy,  sat  side  by  side,  with  John  across  from  them.  This 
left  a  vacant  chair  opposite  Rose,  and  before  this  a  plate 
was  laid. 

For  a  time  the  family  fell  upon  its  food  in  silence. 
The  girl  was  eleven  years  old  perhaps,  with  eyes  of 
lustrous  hazel,  reddish-brown  hair  massed  in  curls  upon 
her  shoulders  and  hanging  below,  cheeks  hopelessly 
freckled,  mouth  large,  and  nose  also  without  hope  through 
being  waggishly  pugged.  The  boy,  whose  sharp,  pale 
features  exhibited  traces  of  a  battle  with  ill  health  begun 
at  birth  and  not  yet  ended,  had  eyes  that  were  like  his 
mother's,  clear  and  gray,  and  there  was  a  brave  turn  to 
his  upper  lip  that  excited  pity  on  a  face  so  pale.  He 
looked  older  but  was  probably  younger  than  his  sister. 
Hero-worship,  frank  and  unbounded,  was  in  the  glance 
with  which  the  two  from  time  to  time  beamed  upon  their 
uncle. 

After  a  considerable  interval,  John,  glancing  first  at 
the  empty  chair  and  then  at  his  sister,  asked  with  signifi 
cant  constraint  in  his  tone :  "  Any  word  ?  " 

His  sister's  head  was  shaken  disconsolately,  and  the 
angular  shoulders  seemed  to  sink  a  little  more  wearily  as 
her  face  was  again  bowed  toward  her  plate. 

After  another  interval,  Hampstead  remarked :  "'*  You 
seem  worried  to-night,  Rose." 

"  The  rent  is  due  to-morrow,"  she  replied  in  a  wooden 
voice. 

"  Is  that  all?"  exclaimed  John,  throwing. back  his  head 
with  a  relieved  laugh.  At  the  same  time  a  hand  had 


14  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

stolen  into  his  pocket,  and  he  drew  out  a  twenty-dollar 
gold  piece  and  tossed  it  across  the  table. 

'  The  rent  is  $17.50,"  observed  Rose,  eyeing  the  coin 
doubtfully. 

"  Keep  the  change/'  chuckled  John,  "  and  pass  the  po 
tatoes." 

But  the  woman's  gloom  appeared  to  deepen. 

:'You  pay  your  board  promptly,"  she  protested. 
"  This  is  the  third  month  in  succession  that  you  have  also 
paid  the  rent.  Besides,  you  are  always  doing  for  the 
children." 

"  Who  wouldn't,  I'd  like  to  know  ?  "  challenged  John, 
surveying  them  both  proudly;  whereat  Dick,  his  mouth 
being  otherwise  engaged,  darted  a  look  of  gratitude  from 
his  great,  wise  eyes,  while  Tayna  reached  over  and  patted 
her  uncle's  hand  affectionately.  "  Tayna  "  was  an  In 
dian  name  the  girl's  father  had  picked  up  somewhere. 

"  Besides,"  went  on  John,  "  Charles  is  having  an  up 
hill  fight  of  it  right  now.  It's  a  pleasure  to  stand  by  a 
gallant  fellow  like  him.  He  goes  charging  after  his  ideal 
like  old  Sir  Galahad." 

But  the  face  of  his  sister  refused  to  kindle. 

"  Like  Don  Quixote,  you  mean,"  she  answered  cyni 
cally.  "  I  haven't  heard  from  him  in  three  weeks.  He 
has  not  sent  me  any  money  in  six.  He  sends  it  less  and 
less  frequently.  He  becomes  more  and  more  irrespon 
sible.  You  are  spoiling  him  to  support  his  family  for 
him,  and,"  she  added,  with  a  choke  in  her  voice,  while  a 
tear  appeared  in  her  eye,  "  he  is  spoiling  us  —  killing  our 
love  for  him." 

The  boy  slipped  down  from  his  chair  and  stood  beside 
his  mother,  stroking  her  arm  sympathetically. 

"  Poppie's  all  right,"  he  whispered  in  his  peculiar 
drawl.  "  He'll  come  home  soon  and  bring  a  lot  of  money 
with  him.  See  if  he  don't!  " 


ONE  MAN  AND  ANOTHER  15 

"  Oh,  I  know,"  confessed  Rose,  while  with  one  hand 
she  dabbed  the  corner  of  her  eye  with  an  apron,  and  with 
the  other  clasped  the  boy  impulsively  to  her.  "  I  know  I 
should  not  give  way  before  the  children.  But  —  but  it 
grows  worse  and  worse,  John !  " 

"  Nonsense !  "  rebuked  her  brother.  "  You're  only 
tired  and  run  down.  You  need  a  rest,  by  Hokey !  that's 
what  you  need.  Charles  is  liable  to  sell  that  Grand 
Canyon  canvas  of  his  any  time,  and  when  he  does,  you'll 
get  a  month  in  Catalina,  that's  what  you  will !  " 

The  wife  was  silently  busy  with  her  apron  and  her 
eyes. 

"  Do  you  know,  Rose,"  John  continued  with  forced 
enthusiasm,  "  my  admiration  for  Charles  grows  all  the 
time.  He  follows  his  star,  that  boy  does !  " 

"  And  forgets  his  family* —  leaves  it  to  starve !  "  re 
proached  the  sister  bitterly,  while  the  sag  of  her  cheeks 
became  still  more  noticeable. 

"  Ah,  but  that's  where  you  do  Charles  an  injustice," 
insisted  John.  "  He  knows  I'm  here.  We  have  a  sort 
of  secret  understanding;  that  is,"  and  he  gulped  a  little 
at  going*  too  far — "  that  is,  we  understand  each  other. 
He  knows  that  while  he  is  following  his  ideal,  I  won't 
see  you  starve.  He's  a  genius;  I'm  the  dub.  It's  a  fair 
partnership.  His  eye  is  always  on  the  goal.  He  will  get 
there  sure  —  and  soon,  now,  too." 

"He  will  never  get  there!"  blurted  out  the  dejected 
woman,  as  if  with  a  sudden  disregardful  loosing  of  her 
real  convictions.  "  For  thirteen  years  I  have  hoped  and 
toiled  and  believed  and  waited.  A  good  while  ago  I 
made  up  my  mind.  He  has  not  the  vital  spark.  For 
five  years  I  have  pleaded  with  him  to  give  it  up  —  to  sur 
render  his  ambition,  to  turn  his  undoubted  talent  to  ac 
count.  He  has  had  the  rarest  aptitude  for  decorating. 
We  might  be  having  an  income  of  ten  thousand  a  year 


16  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

now.  Instead  he  pursues  this  will-o'-the-wisp  ambition 
of  his.  He  is  crazy  about  color,  always  chasing  a  foolish 
sunset  or  some  wonderful  desert  panorama  of  sky  and 
cloud  and  mountain  —  seeing  colors  no  one  else  can  see 
but  unable  to  put  his  vision  upon  the  canvas.  That's  the 
truth,  John!  I  have  never  spoken  it  before.  Never 
hinted  it  before  the  children !  Charles  Langham  is  a  fail 
ure.  He  will  never  be  anything  else  but  a  failure !  " 

The  words,  concluded  by  the  barely  successful  sup 
pression  of  a  sob,  fell  on  unprotesting  silence.  Who  but 
this  life- worn  woman  had  so  good  an  opportunity  to  know 
if  they  were  true,  so  good  a  right  to  speak  them  if  she 
believed  them  true  ?  John  looked  at  his  plate,  Tayna  and 
Dick  looked  at  each  other.  It  required  a  stout  heart  to 
break  the  oppressive  quiet,  and  for  the  moment  no  one  in 
this  group  had  that  heart.  The  break  came  from  the 
outside,  when  some  one  ran  swiftly  up  the  steps  and 
threw  open  the  front  door.  Instant  sounds  of  collision 
and  confusion  issued  from  the  hall,  followed  immediately 
by  a  masculine  voice,  thin  and  injured  in  tone,  calling  ex 
citedly  : 

"  Well,  for  the  love  of  Michael  Angelo !  What  do  you 
keep  stuffing  the  hall  so  full  of  furniture  for?  Won't 
somebody  please  come  and  help  me  with  these  things  ?  " 

The  dinner  table  was  abruptly  deserted;  but  quick  as 
John  and  the  children  were,  Rose  was  ahead  of  them, 
and  when  they  reached  the  hallway,  a  thin  man  of  me 
dium  height,  with  an  aquiline  nose,  dark  eyes,  and  long 
loose  hair,  was  helplessly  in  the  embrace  of  the  laughing 
and  crying  woman. 

"  Oh,  Charles,  you  did  come  home ;  you  did  come  home,, 
didn't  you  ?  "  she  was  crying. 

Charles  broke  in  volubly.  "  Well,  I  should  say  I  did. 
What  did  you  expect?  Have  I  ever  impressed  you  as  a 
man  who  would  neglect  his  family?  "  After  which,  with 


ONE  MAN  AND  ANOTHER  17 

the  look  of  one  who  has  put  his  accusers  in  the  wrong, 
he  rescued  himself  from  his  wife's  emphatic  embraces, 
held  her  off  for  a  moment  with  a  look  of  real  fondness, 
and  then  brushed  her  with  his  lips,  first  on  one  cheek 
and  then  upon  the  other. 

"  Dad-dee!  "  clamored  the  children  in  chorus.  "  Dad- 
dee  !  "  Yet  it  was  noticeable  that  they  did  not  presume 
to  rush  upon  their  father,  but  flung  their  voices  before 
them,  experimentally,  as  it  were. 

"Well,  well,  las  ninas"  (las  ninas  being  the  Spanish 
for  children),  the  father  exclaimed,  his  piercing  dark 
eyes  upon  them  with  delight  and  displeasure  mingling. 
"Aren't  you  going  to  give  me  a  hug?  Your  mother 
nearly  strangles  me,  and  you  stand  off  eyeing  me  as  if 
I  were  a  new  species." 

At  the  open  arms  of  invitation,  both  of  the  children 
plunged  unhesitatingly;  but  their  reception  was  brief. 

"  Run  away  now,  father  is  tired,"  the  nervous-looking 
man  proclaimed  presently,  straightening  his  shoulders, 
while  he  sniffed  the  atmosphere.  "  Dinner,  eh  ?  Gods 
and  goats,  but  I  am  hungry !  " 

Rose  led  the  little  procession  proudly  back  to  the  table, 
drawing  out  her  husband's  chair  for  him,  hovering  over 
him,  smoothing  his  hair,  unfolding  his  napkin,  and  stoop 
ing  to  place  a  fresh  kiss  upon  his  fine,  high,  but  narrow 
brow. 

"  That  will  do  now ;  that  will  do  now,"  he  chided,  with 
an  air  of  having  indulged  a  foolishly  doting  woman  long 
enough.  "  For  goodness'  sake,  Rose,  give  me  something 
to  eat." 

His  wife,  still  upon  her  feet,  carried  him  the  platter 
from  which  the  family  had  been  served.  Charles  con 
demned  it  with  a  glance. 

"  Isn't  there  something  fresh  you  could  give  me  ? 
Something  that  hasn't  been  —  pawed  over?  " 


i8  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

His  tone  was  eloquent  of  sensibilities  outraged,  and  his 
dark  eyes,  having  first  flashed  a  reproach  upon  his  wife, 
swept  the  circle  with  a  look  of  expected  comprehension 
in  them,  as  if  he  knew  that  all  would  understand  the  deli 
cacies  of  the  artistic  temperament. 

"  Why,  yes,"  admitted  Rose,  without  a  sign  of  resent 
ment.  "  I  can  get  you  something  fresh  if  you  will  wait 
a  few  minutes." 

She  slipped  out  to  the  kitchen  from  which  presently  the 
odor  of  broiling  meat  proceeded,  while  the  artist  coolly 
rolled  his  cigarette,  and,  surveying  without  touching  the 
cup  of  coffee  which  John  had  poured  for  him,  raised  his 
voice  to  call:  "  Some  fresh  coffee,  too,  Rose,  please!" 

After  this  Langham  leveled  his  eye  on  his  brother-in- 
law  and  asked  airily,  "  Well,  John,  how's  everything  with 
you?" 

11  Fine  as  silk,  Charles,"  replied  Hampstead.  "  How 
is  it  with  you  ?  " 

"  Never  better,"  declared  Langham.  "  Never  saw 
such  sunsets  in  your  life  as  they  are  having  up  the 
Monterey  coast.  I  tell  you  there  never  were  such  colors. 
There  was  one  there  in  December," — and  he  launched 
into  a  detailed  description  of  it,  his  eyes,  his  face,  his 
hands,  his  whole  body  laboring  to  convey  the  picture 
which  his  animated  spirits  proclaimed  was  still  upon  the 
screen  of  his  mind. 

As  the  description  was  concluded,  Rose  placed  a  plat 
ter  before  him,  upon  which,  garnished  with  parsley,  two 
small  chops  appeared,  delicately  grilled. 

Abruptly  ceasing  conversation,  Charles  sank  a  knife 
and  fork  into  one  of  them  and  transferred  a  generous 
morsel  to  his  mouth. 

"  Thanks,  old  girl ;  just  up  to  your  topmost  mark,"  he 
confessed  ungrudgingly,  after  a  few  moments,  during 
which,  with  half-closed  eyes,  he  had  been  chewing  vigor- 


ONE  MAN  AND  ANOTHER  19 

ously  and  with  a  singleness  of  purpose  rather  rare  in 
him. 

"  Sold  any  pictures  lately?  "  asked  John  casually. 

"  No,"  said  Langham  abruptly,  lowering  his  voice, 
while  a  look  of  annoyance  shaded  his  brow.  "  I  dropped 
in  at  the  gallery  first  thing,  but  " —  and  he  shrugged  his 
shoulders' — "Nothing  doing!  However,"  and  he  be 
came  immediately  cheerful  again,  "  Mrs.  Lawson  has  been 
looking  awfully  hard  at  that  Grand  Canyon  canvas.  If 
she  buys  that,  my  fortune's  made." 

"  And  if  she  doesn't,"  observed  Rose  pessimistically. 

"And  if  she  doesn't?"  her  husband  exclaimed  with 
sudden  irritation.  "  Well  —  it'll  be  made  just  the  same. 
You  see  if  it  isn't!  Oh,  say!  "  and  a  light  broke  upon 
his  face  so  merry  that  it  immediately  dissipated  every 
sign  of  annoyance.  "  What  do  you  think  ?  I  saw 
Owens  to-day,  the  fellow  who  auctions  alleged  oil  paint 
ings  at  a  minimum  of  two  dollars  each.  You  know  the 
scheme  —  pictures  painted  while  you  wait  —  roses,  chrys 
anthemums,  landscapes  even.  Well,  he  offered  me  fifteen 
dollars  a  day  to  paint  pictures  for  him.  Think  of  it! 
To  sit  in  the  window  before  a  gaping  crowd  painting 
those  miserable  daubs,  a  dozen  or  two  a  day,  while  he 
auctions  them  off.  His  impudence!  If  I  had  been  as 
big  as  you  are,  Jack,  I  would  have  punched  him." 

"  Fifteen  dollars  a  day/'  commented  Rose  thought 
fully. 

"  Yes,"  laughed  Langham,  his  little  black  eyes  a-twin- 
kle,  as  he  clipped  the  last  morsel  from  the  first  of  his 
chops.  "The  idea!" 

"  Well,  I  hope  you  took  it,"  his  wife  suggested. 

"  Rose ! "  exclaimed  Langham,  rising  bolt  upright  at 
the  table  and  looking  into  her  face  as  if  she  had  unwar 
rantably  and  unexpectedly  hurled  the  blackest  insult. 
"  Rose !  An  artist  like  me !  " 


20  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  It  is  the  kind  of  a  job  for  an  artist  like  you/'  she  re 
joined  stingingly,  with  a  sarcastic  emphasis  on  just  the 
right  words. 

"Oh,  my  God!  My  God!"  exclaimed  the  man 
sharply,  turning  from  the  table,  while  he  threw  his  hands 
dramatically  upward  and  clutched  at  the  back  of  his  head, 
after  which  he  took  a  turn  up  and  down  the  room  as  if 
beside  himself  with  unutterable  emotions. 

John  judged  that  this  was  the  fitting  moment  for  his 
withdrawal,  but  Langham's  distress  of  mind  was  not  too 
great  for  him  to  observe  the  movement  and  to  follow. 
He  overtook  his  brother-in-law  in  the  studio-parlor,  and 
his  manner  was  coolly  importunate. 

"Say,  old  man!"  he  whispered,  "could  you  let  me 
have  five?  I'm  a  little  short  on  carfare,  and  you'll  be 
gone  in  the  morning  before  I  get  up." 

"  Sure,"  exclaimed  John,  without  a  moment's  hesita 
tion,  delving  in  the  depths  of  the  pocket  from  which  he 
had  produced  the  money  for  the  rent,  and  handing  out  a 
five-dollar  piece. 

"  Thanks,  old  chap,"  said  Langham,  seizing  it  eagerly 
and  hastening  away,  after  an  affectionate  slap  on  the 
shoulder  of  his  bigger  and  as  he  thought  baser  metaled 
brother-in-law.  He  did  not,  however,  say  that  he  would 
repay  the  loan,  and  Hampstead  did  not  remark  that  it 
was  the  last  gold  coin  in  his  pocket  and  that  he  should 
have  no  more  till  pay  day,  ten  days  hence. 

John  let  his  admiration  for  the  assurance  of  Langham 
play  for  a  moment,  and  then  turned  to  the  rear  of  the 
studio,  opened  a  door,  struck  a  match,  and  groped  his 
way  to  a  naked  gas  jet.  The  sudden  flare  of  light  re 
vealed  a  lean-to  room,  meant  originally  for  nobody  knew 
what,  but  turned  into  a  bedroom.  The  only  article  of 
furniture  which  piqued  curiosity  in  the  least  was  a  table 
against  the  wall,  across  which  a  long  plank  had  been 


ONE  MAN  AND  ANOTHER  21 

balanced.  Upon  it  and  equilibrated  as  carefully  as  the 
plank  itself,  was  a  row  of  books  of  many  shapes  and 
sizes  and  in  various  stages  of  preservation.  This  plank 
was  John's  library. 

Stuck  about  upon  the  walls  were  several  large  photo 
gravures,  portraying  various  stirring  scenes  in  history, 
mostly  Roman.  They  were  un framed  and  fastened 
crudely  to  the  wall  with  pins.  Evidently  this  was  the 
living  place  of  an  untidy  man. 

The  tiny  table,  with  its  balanced  over-load  of  books, 
was  directly  beneath  the  gas.  John  dropped  heavily  into 
the  wooden  chair  before  it  and  drew  to  him  a  number 
of  sheets  of  paper,  upon  which,  with  much  labor  and 
many  erasings,  he  began  to  fashion  a  sort  of  motto  or 
legend.  Satisfied  at  length  with  his  work,  he  printed  the 
finished  legend  swiftly  in  rude  capital  letters  in  the  center 
of  a  fresh  sheet,  snatched  down  the  picture  of  a  Christian 
martyr  which  occupied  the  central  space  above  his  library, 
and  with  the  same  four  pins  affixed  his  motto  in  that  par 
ticular  spot,  where  it  would  greet  him  instantly  upon 
opening  the  door,  and  where  it  would  be  the  last  thing 
upon  which  his  eyes  fell  as  he  went  to  sleep  and  the  first 
when  he  awakened  in  the  morning. 

Once  it  was  in  position,  he  stood  off  and  admired  it, 
reading  aloud : 

"  ETERNAL  HAMMERING  is  THE  PRICE  OF  SUCCESS  !  " 

"That's  the  stuff,"  he  croaked  enthusiastically. 
"  Eternal  hammering !  "  And  then  he  paused  a  moment, 
after  which  his  reverie  was  continued  aloud.  "  That 
actor  was  telling  me  to-day  about  technique.  He  said : 
'  There's  a  right  way  to  do  everything  —  to  pitch  a  horse 
shoe  even/  He's  right.  The  fellow  with  the  best 
technique  will  knock  the  highest  persimmon.  What 


22  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

makes  me  such  a  good  stenographer?  Technique. 
What  makes  me  such  a  bum  office  flunkey  ?  The  lack  of 
technique  —  no  voice  —  no  form  —  no  self-confidence. 
I  am  a  young-man-afraid-of -himself  —  that's  who  I  am. 

"  Technique  first  and  then  —  gravitation !  That's  the 
idea!" 

By  gravitation,  however,  Hampstead  did  not  mean 
that  law  which  keeps  the  heavenly  bodies  from  getting 
on  the  wrong  side  of  the  street,  but  that  process,  which 
in  his  short  life  he  had  already  observed,  by  means  of 
which  the  man  in  the  crowd  who  takes  advantage  of  his 
opportunities  and,  by  the  dig  of  an  elbow  here,  the  insert 
of  a  shoulder  there,  and  the  stiff  thrust  of  a  foot  and  leg 
yonder,  sooner  or  later  arrives  opposite  the  gateway  of 
his  particular  desires. 

Mere  opportunism?  That  and  a  little  more;  a  sort  of 
conviction  that  fortune  herself  is  something  of  an  op 
portunist,  that  what  a  man  wants  to  do,  fortune,  sooner 
or  later,  will  help  him  to  do,  if  he  only  wills  himself  in 
the  direction  of  the  want  early  enough  and  long  enough 
to  give  the  fickle  jade  her  chance. 

By  way  of  proceeding  immediately  to  hammer,  Hamp 
stead  reached  for  a  heavy  calf -bound  volume,  bearing 
the  imprint  of  the  Los  Angeles  Public  Library,  and  set 
tled  himself  to  read. 

Most  people  in  the  railroad  office  were  tired  when  they 
finished  their  day's  work.  They  were  done  with  effort. 
John,  however,  was  just  ready  to  begin.  They  thought 
of  recreation;  John  thought  only  of  hammering. 

Since  his  scholastic  education  had  been  broken  off  in 
the  middle  by  economic  necessities,  he  had  formed  the 
plan  of  reading  at  night  the  entire  written  history  of  the 
world,  from  the  first  cuneiform  inscription  down  to  the 
last  edition  of  the  last  newspaper.  In  pursuance  of  this 
plan,  he  had  already  traveled  far  down  the  centuries,  and 


ONE  MAN  AND  ANOTHER  23 

it  was  with  eagerness  that  he  adjusted  his  eye-shade  to 
night,  because  when  he  lifted  the  cover  of  his  book  he 
knew  that  he  would  swing  open  the  doors  on  one  of  the 
greatest  centuries  in  human  history,  the  century  in  which 
the  world  discovered  the  individual.  Hampstead  was 
himself  an  individual.  This  was  in  some  sense  the  story 
of  his  own  discovery. 

When  John  had  been  reading  for  perhaps  half  an  hour, 
there  came  a  bird-like  tap  at  his  door,  accompanied  by  a 
suppressed  giggle. 

"Who  comes  there?"  called  the  student  in  sepulchral 
tones,  stabbing  the  page  at  a  particular  spot  with  his 
thumb,  while  his  eyes  were  lifted. 

The  only  audible  sound  was  another  giggle,  but  the 
door  swung  open  mysteriously,  revealing  two  small, 
white-robed  figures  silhouetted  against  the  shadows  in  the 
studio. 

"  Enter,  ghosts ! "  John  commanded,  in  the  same 
sepulchral  voice,  while  his  eyes  fell  again  upon  his  pages. 
The  ghosts  chortled  and  advanced,  but  with  great  cir 
cumspection,  to  the  little  table  with  its  dangerously  bal 
anced  bookshelf,  its  miscellaneous  litter  of  papers,  and  its 
silent,  absorbed  student. 

Tayna,  her  long  burnished  curls  cascading  over  the 
white  of  her  nightgown,  and  her  eyes  shining  softly, 
ducked  her  head  and  arose  under  one  arm  of  her  uncle, 
where  presently  she  felt  herself  drawn  close  with  an  af 
fectionate,  satisfying  sort  of  squeeze.  The  boy,  ap 
proaching  from  the  other  side,  laid  an  arm  upon  the 
shoulder  of  the  man,  and  stood  watching  with  fascination 
the  eyes  of  his  uncle  in  their  steady  sweep  from  side  to 
side  of  the  printed  page. 

"  Uncle  John,"  asked  Tayna  shyly,  burying  her  face 
in  his  neck  as  she  put  the  question,  "  when  will  you  be 
President?" 


24  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  When  shall  you  be  President  ?  "  corrected  the  boy, 
looking  across  at  his  sister  with  that  same  old-mannish 
expression  which  was  a  part  of  all  he  said  and  did. 

Hampstead  cuddled  the  girl  closer,  and  his  eye  aban 
doned  the  page  to  look  down  the  bridge  of  his  nose  into 
distance. 

"  Why?  "  he  asked  presently. 

"  Oh,  because/'  said  Tayna,  with  a  little  shiver  of 
eagerness,  "  I  can  hardly  wait." 

Hampstead' s  eyes  wandered  to  his  motto  on  the  wall. 
The  eyes  of  the  boy  followed  and  spelled  out  the  letters 
wonderingly,  but  in  silence. 

"  We  must  be  able  to  wait,"  said  John,  squeezing 
Tayna  again.  "It's  a  long,  long  way;  but  if  we  just 
keep  on  keeping  on,  why,  after  a  while  we  are  there,  you 
know." 

Tayna  sighed  and  reached  up  a  round,  plump  arm  till 
it  encircled  Hampstead's  neck,  as  she  asked,  still  more 
shyly : 

"  And  when  you  are  President,  every  one  will  know 
just  how  good  and  great  you  are,  and  they  won't  call  you 
awkward  nor  —  nor  homely  any  more,  will  they?  " 

A  flush  and  a  chuckle  marked  John's  reception  of  this 
query,  after  which  he  observed  hastily  and  a  bit  appre 
hensively  : 

"  Say,  you  wet  little  goldfishes !  Remember  that  you 
are  never,  never,  now  or  any  time,  howsoever  odd  I  bear 
myself,  to  breathe  a  word  to  anybody,  not  to  a  single 
soul,  not  to  your  mamma  or  your  papa  or  your  Sunday- 
school  teacher  or  anybody,  of  all  these  nice  little  play  se 
crets  which  we  have  between  ourselves." 

An  instant  seriousness  came  over  the  children's  faces. 

"  Cross  my  heart,"  murmured  Tayna,  with  a  twitch 
of  her  slender  finger  across  her  breast. 

"  And  hope  to  die,"  added  Dick,  with  a  funeral  solem- 


ONE  MAN  AND  ANOTHER  25 

nity,  as  he  completed  Tayna's  cross  by  a  vertical  move 
ment  of  a  stubby  thumb  in  the  direction  of  his  own  wish 
bone  of  a  breast. 

Hampstead  looked  relieved. 

"  But,"  affirmed  Tayna  stoutly,  "  they  are  not  play  se 
crets.  They  are  real  secrets.  Aren't  they?" 

John  looked  up  at  his  motto  again. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  in  a  low,  determined  voice.  "  They 
are  real  secrets." 

"  And,"  half-declared,  half-questioned  Dick,  "  if  you 
aren't  President,  you  are  going  to  be  some  other  kind  of 
a  very  great  man  ? 

"Aren't  you?"  the  boy  persisted,  when  Hampstead 
was  silent. 

"  Tell  you  to-morrow,"  laughed  John.  "  Good  night, 
ghosts !  "  and  with  a  swift  assault  of  his  lips  upon  the 
cheeks  of  either,  he  gently  impelled  them  toward  the  door. 

"  Good  night,  your  Excellency !  "  giggled  Tayna. 

"  Good  night,  my  counselors,"  responded  Hampstead, 
reaching  for  his  book. 

An  hour  later  Hampstead  was  still  reading.  Another 
hour  later  he  was  still  reading.  But  something  like  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  beyond  that,  when  it  might  have  been, 
say,  near  half-past  eleven,  he  was  not  reading.  He  was 
turning  his  head  strangely  from  side  to  side  and  digging 
a  knuckle  into  his  eyes.  A  surprising  thing  had  hap 
pened.  He  could  no  longer  see  the  lines  upon  the  page 
—  nor  the  page  itself  —  nor  the  book  —  nor  anything ! 

His  first  impression  was  that  the  gas  had  gone  out ;  but 
this  swiftly  gave  way  to  the  conviction  that  he  had  gone 
blind  —  stone  blind !  —  and  so  suddenly  that  it  happened 
right  between  the  beheading  of  one  of  the  queens  of 
Henry  the  Eighth  and  the  marrying  of  another.  He  was 
now  tardily  conscious  that  for  some  time  his  eyes  had 
been  giving  him  pain,  that  he  had  rubbed  them  periodi- 


26  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

cally  to  clear  away  white  opacities  that  appeared  upon  the 
page;  but  now  there  was  no  pain;  they  were  suffused 
with  moisture,  and  the  room  was  dark. 

After  an  interval  he  could  make  out  the  gaslight  glow 
ing  feebly  like  the  tiny  glare  of  a  candle  visible  in  some 
distant  pit  of  darkness,  but  he  could  discern  no  shapes 
about  the  room.  Not  one ! 

A  horrible  fear  stole  into  his  breast  and  chilled  it. 
All  of  him  had  suddenly  come  to-  naught,  and  just  as  he 
was  getting  started.  He  turned  futile,  streaming  orbs 
up  to  where  his  new-made  motto  should  loom  upon  the 
wall.  It  was  there,  of  course,  mocking  at  him  now;  but 
he  could  not  see  it.  He  could  not  see  the  wall  even. 
For  fully  five  minutes  he  sat  in  darkness,  his  hands 
clasped  above  his  bowed  head.  Then  he  arose  and 
groped  his  way  along  the  wall  to  the  door  and  opened  it, 
and  stood  facing  out  into  the  grotesque  dark  of  the 
studio.  He  thought  of  trying  to  grope  his  way  across  it 
—  of  calling  out  —  but  decided  to  wait  a  few  minutes. 

He  felt  stricken,  broken,  overwhelmed.  His  life,  his 
career,  himself  were  ruined.  He  required  time  to  get 
used  to  the  sensation,  time  to  adjust  his  mind  to  the  ex 
tent  of  the  calamity  and  to  gather  some  elements  of  for 
titude  wherewith  to  face  the  world.  Not  even  Rose  must 
see  him  broken  and  shattered  as  he  felt  right  now. 

Turning  back,  he  closed  the  door,  felt  his  way  to  the 
gas,  and  turned  it  off.  He  had  no  need  of  gas  now. 
Then  he  lay  down,  fully  clothed,  upon  the  bed,  with  a 
cold  cloth  upon  his  eyes,  thinking  flightily  and  feeling 
very  sorry  for  himself. 


He  felt  stricken,  broken,  overwhelmed.     Page  26. 


CHAPTER  III 

WHEN    THE   DARK   WENT   AWAY 


513 

General  Freight  Department 
CALIFORNIA  CONSOLIDATED 
RAILWAY  COMPANY 

ROBERT  MITCHELL, 

General  Freight  Agent. 

Walk  in! 


THIS  was  the  sign  on  the  door  that  John  Hampstead 
had  opened  every  morning  for  seven  years.  This  morn 
ing  he  did  not  open  it,  and  there  was  something  like  con 
sternation  when  as  late  as  nine-thirty  the  chair  of  the  big, 
amiable,  stenographic  drudge  wras  still  vacant.  Old  Heit- 
muller,  the  chief  clerk,  after  swearing  his  way  helplessly 
from  one  point  of  the  compass  to  another,  was  about  to 
dispatch  the  office  boy  to  Hampstead's  residence. 

Inside,  and  unaware  of  all  this  pother,  sat  the  General 
Freight  Agent.  Big  of  body,  with  the  topography  of 
his  father's  heath  upon  his  wide  face,  soft  in  the  heart 
and  hard  in  the  head,  Robert  Mitchell  was  a  man  of  no 
airs.  His  origin  was  probably  shanty  Irish,  and  he  didn't 
care  who  suspected  it.  By  painful  labor,  a  ready  smile, 
a  hearty  laugh,  a  square  deal  to  his  company  and  as  square 
a  deal  to  the  public  as  he  could  give  — "  consistently  " — 
he  had  got  to  his  present  modest  eminence.  He  was  go 
ing  higher  and  was  not  particular  who  suspected  that 


28  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

either;  but  was  not  boastful,  had  the  respect  of  all  men 
who  knew  him  well,  and  the  affection  of  those  who  knew 
him  intimately. 

He  sat  just  now  in  a  thoroughly  characteristic  pose, 
with  the  stubby  fingers  of  one  fat  hand  thoughtfully 
teasing  a  wisp  of  reddish  brown  hair,  while  his  shrewd 
blue  eyes  were  screwing  at  the  exact  significance  of  the 
top  letter  on  a  pile  before  him. 

Over  in  a  corner  was  Mitchell's  guest  and  vast  superior, 
Maiden  H.  Hale,  the  president  of  the  twelve  thousand 
miles  of  shining  steel  which  made  up  the  Great  South 
western  Railway  System,  in  which  Mitchell's  little  road 
nestled  like  a  rabbit  in  the  maw  of  a  python.  Mr.  Hale 
was  signing  some  letters  dictated  yesterday  to  John,  find 
ing  them  paragraphed  and  punctuated  to  his  complete 
satisfaction,  with  here  and  there  a  word  better  than  his 
own  looming  up  in  the  context.  For  a  time  there  was  no 
sound  save  the  scratching  of  his  pen  and  the  fillip  of  the 
sheets  as  he  turned  them  over.  Then  he  chuckled  softly, 
and  presently  spoke. 

"  Bob,"  he  said,  "  that's  an  odd  genius,  that  stenog 
rapher  out  there." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mr.  Mitchell  absently,  without  looking 
up  from  his  work,  and  then  suddenly  he  stabbed  the  at 
mosphere  with  a  significant  rising  inflection :  "  Genius  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes,"  affirmed  Mr.  Hale.  "  Genius !  He  im 
presses  you  first  as  absurdly  incompetent,  but  his  work 
manship  is  really  superior,  and  later  you  get  a  sugges 
tion  of  something  back  of  him,  something  buried  that 
might  come  out,  you  know." 

"  I  used  to  think  so,"  the  General  Freight  Agent  re 
plied,  with  a  tone  which  indicated  loss  of  interest  in  the 
subject,  but  being  tardily  overtaken  in  his  reading  by  a 
sense  that  he  had  not  quite  done  justice  to  the  big  stenog 
rapher,  he  broke  the  silence  to  add :  "  He  is  a  fine  char- 


WHEN  THE  DARK  WENT  AWAY          29 

acter.  He  has  very  high  thoughts," — vacancy  was  in 
his  eye  for  a  moment, — "  so  high  they're  cloudy." 

And  that  was  all.  Mr.  Hale  made  no  further  com 
ment.  Mr.  Mitchell,  a  just  man,  was  satisfied  that  he 
had  done  justice.  Thus  in  the  minds  of  two  arbiters 
of  the  destinies  of  many  men,  John  Hampstead,  loyal, 
laborious,  who  had  served  faithfully  for  seven  years,  was 
lifted  for  a  moment  until  the  sun  of 'prospect  flashed  upon 
him, —  lifted  and  then  dropped.  And  they  did  not  even 
know  that  nature,  too,  had  dropped  him, —  that  he  was 
blind. 

But  just  then  a  privileged  person  knocked  and  entered 
without  waiting  for  an  invitation.  The  newcomer  was 
Doctor  Gallagher,  the  "  Company  "  oculist,  his  fine,  dark 
eyes  aglow  with  sympathy  and  importance. 

"  That  boy  Hampstead,"  he  began  abruptly,  "  is  in  bad 
shape." 

"  Hampstead !  "  ejaculated  Mr.  Mitchell  antagonisti 
cally,  as  if  it  were  impossible  that  lumbering  mass  of  bone 
and  muscle  could  ever  be  in  bad  shape. 

"  Yes,"  affirmed  the  physician,  with  the  air  of  one  who 
announces  a  sensation,  "  he's  likely  to  go  blind!  " 

"  No !  "  ejaculated  Mr.  Mitchell,  in  still  more  emphatic 
tones  of  disbelief,  though  his  blue  eyes  opened  wide  and 
grew  round  with  shock  and  sympathetic  apprehension. 

"  Yes,"  explained  Doctor  Gallagher  volubly.  "  Con 
tinual  transcription,  the  sweep  of  the  eye  from  the  note 
book  page  to  the  machine  and  back,  year  in  and  year  out, 
for  so  long,  has  broken  down  the  muscular  system  of 
the  eye.  He  had  a  blind  spell  last  night.  He  can  see 
all  right  this  morning.  But  to  let  him  go  to  work  would 
be  criminal.  I  have  him  in  the  Company  Hospital  for 
two  weeks  of  absolute  rest,  and  then  he  will  be  all  right. 
But  the  typewriter,  never  again!  You  can  put  him  on 
the  outside  to  solicit  freight,  or  something  like  that." 


30  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

A  broad  grin  overspread  the  features  of  the  General 
Freight  Agent.  "  You  don't  know  John,"  he  said, 
"  That  boy  would  die  of  nervousness  the  first  day  out. 
He's  afraid  of  people.  Besides,"  went  on  Mitchell,  "  we 
couldn't  get  along  without  him.  He  knows  too  much 
that  nobody  else  knows." 

"  Well,  anyway,  never  again  the  typewriter ! "  com 
manded  the  doctor  from  the  door,  getting  out  quickly 
and  hurrying  away  with  the  consciousness  of  duty  ex 
tremely  well  performed.  He  knew  that  he  had  exagger 
ated  the  extent  of  John's  eye-trouble;  but  he  believed  that 
it  was  necessary  to  exaggerate  it,  both  to  Hampstead  and 
to  Mr.  Mitchell. 

In  his  darkened  room  at  the  hospital,  John  was  feeling 
somehow  suddenly  honored  of  destiny.  People  were 
thinking,  talking,  caring  about  him.  There  was  exalta 
tion  just  in  that.  But  also  he  was  fuming.  He  wasn't 
ill.  He  was  simply  confined.  He  could  not  read.  He 
could  not  write.  He  could  do  nothing  but  sit  in  a  dark 
ened  room  according  to  prescription,  and  wait.  But  on 
the  third  day  Doctor  Gallagher  said : 

"  As  soon  as  it  is  dusk,  you  may  go  out  for  a  swift 
walk.  That's  to  get  exercise.  Keep  off  the  main 
streets ;  keep  away  from  bright  lights,  do  not  try  to  read 
signs,  to  recognize  people,  or  in  fact  to  look  at  anything 
closely." 

John  leaped  eagerly  at  this  permission,  but  there  was 
design  in  his  devotion  to  the  new  prescription  of  which 
the  doctor  knew  nothing.  On  the  fifth  day  of  his  con 
finement,  Tayna  and  Dick,  who  had  been  coming  every 
afternoon  to  sit  for  an  hour  in  the  semi-darkness  with 
their  uncle,  surprised  the  interned  one  doing  odd  con 
tortions  in  the  depths  of  his  room:  twisting  his  wrists; 
standing  on  one  foot  like  a  stork  and  twirling  his  great 
heel  and  toe  from  the  knee  in  some  eccentric  imitation  of 


WHEN  THE  DARK  WENT  AWAY          31 

a  ballet  dancer ;  then  creeping  to  and  fro  across  the  room 
in  a  silly  series  of  bowings  and  scrapings  and  salutings 
that  threw  Dick  into  irrepressible  laughter.  Caught 
shamefacedly  in  the  very  midst  of  these  absurdities, 
John  confessed  to  the  two  of  them  what  he  would  at  the 
moment  have  confessed  to  no  other  living  being  —  last 
of  all  to  Bessie. 

"  I  am  taking  lessons,"  he  said,  "  from  an  actor.  He 
is  going  to  make  me  easy  and  graceful,  so  people  won't 
call  me  awkward  any  more  —  nor  homely,"  and  he  looked 
significantly  at  Tayna. 

"  Oh,"  the  children  both  gasped  respectfully,  and  re 
peated  with  a  kind  of  awe  in  their  voices :  "  From  an 
actor!" 

"  Yes.  Every  evening  the  doctor  lets  me  go  for  a  walk. 
On  every  other  one  of  these  walks  I  go  to  the  actor's 
hotel,  and  he  teaches  me." 

"  Awh !  An  actor-r-r !  "  breathed  Dick  again,  his  fea 
tures  depicting  profoundness  both  of  impression  and 
speculation. 

"  Say !  "  he  proposed  presently.  "  I  would  rather  you 
would  be  an  actor  than  a  president,  anyway." 

John  laughed.  "  I  am  not  going  to  be  an  actor,"  he 
said,  "  I  am  only  going  to  be  polished  till  I  shine  like  a 
human  diamond."  And  then  he  devoted  himself  to  the 
entertainment  of  his  callers. 

"Remember!  Never  again  the  typewriter!"  the 
physician  adjured  sternly,  when  the  fortnight  of  John's 
captivity  was  done.  For  although  conveying  this  ver 
dict  immediately  to  Mitchell,  the  doctor  had  postponed 
its  announcement  to  his  patient  till  his  discharge  from  the 
hospital.  John  was  stunned.  The  typewriter  was  his 
bread.  At  first  he  rebelled,  but  with  a  rush  like  the  swirl 
of  waters  over  his  head,  the  memory  of  that  night  when 
he  was  blind  for  an  hour  came  to  him  and  humbled  him. 


32  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

With  the  trembling  courage  of  a  coward,  he  opened 
the  door  of  room  513;  saw  with  sickening  heart  the 
strange  face  at  his  desk,  shook  the  flabby  hand  of  Heit- 
muller,  and  inwardly  braced  himself  to  enter  for  the  last 
time  between  the  double  doors,  where  presently  he  con 
fessed  his  plight  as  if  it  had  been  a  crime. 

"  You  don't  imagine  we  would  let  you  go,  do  you?  " 
Mr.  Mitchell  asked,  while  an  expression  of  amazement 
grew  upon  his  face  till  it  became  a  laugh.  "  Why,  Jack  " 
—  Mr.  Mitchell  had  never  called  him  Jack  before  —  "  we 
should  have  to  pay  you  a  salary  just  to  stick  around  and 
keep  the  rest  of  us  straight." 

The  stenographer  gulped.  It  was  not  the  first  note  of 
praise  he  had  ever  received  from  this  kindly  railroad 
man,  but  it  was  the  first  time  Mr.  Mitchell  or  any  one 
else  in  that  whole  office  had  ever  acknowledged  to  John 
that  he  was  valuable  for  what  he  knew  as  well  as  for 
what  he  beat  out  of  his  finger-tips. 

'l  You  are  going  to  be  my  private  secretary,"  explained 
Mr.  Mitchell,  still  chuckling  at  the  simplicity  of  John. 
"  I  have  few  letters  to  write,  and  you  know  enough  to  do 
most  of  them  without  dictation.  You  keep  me  reminded 
of  things;  handle  my  telephone  calls  and  appointments. 
Gallagher  says  your  eyes  will  probably  give  you  no  trouble 
whatever  under  these  conditions.  The  salary  will  be  fif 
teen  dollars  more  a  month." 

The  big  awkward  man  was  too  confusedly  grateful 
and  overwhelmed  even  to  attempt  to  murmur  his  thanks. 
Instead,  he  did  a  thing  of  unheard-of  boldness.  He 
reached  over  and  touched  the  General  Freight  Agent  on 
the  arm, —  just  stabbed  him  in  the  upper,  fleshy  part  of 
the  arm  with  a  thrust  of  his  stiff  fingers,  accompanying 
the  act  with  a  monosyllabic  croak.  It  was  a  clumsy 
touch,  and  it  was  presuming;  but  to  a  man  of  understand 
ing,  it  was  eloquent. 


WHEN  THE  DARK  WENT  AWAY          33 

After  one  month  in  this  new  position,  John  found  him 
self  seeing  the  transportation  business  through  new 
glasses.  He  had  passed  from  details  to  principles,  and 
the  change  stimulated  his  mind  enormously. 

One  of  his  new  duties  now  was  to  sit  at  the  General 
Freight  Agent's  elbow  in  conferences,  and  later  to  make 
summaries  of  the  arguments  pro  and  con.  In  transcrib 
ing  Mr.  Mitchell's  part  of  these  talks,  it  interested  John 
to  elaborate  a  little.  Soon  he  ventured  to  make  the 
General  Freight  Agent's  points  stronger  when  he  felt  it 
could  be  done,  and  then  waited,  after  laying  the  transcript 
on  the  big  man's  desk,  for  some  word  of  reproof.  Re 
proof  did  not  come,  and  yet  John  thought  the  changes 
must  be  noticed. 

But  one  day  H.  B.  Anderson,  Assistant  General  Freight 
Agent  of  the  San  Francisco  and  El  Paso,  a  rival  line, 
was  in  the  office. 

"  Mitchell,"  Anderson  began,  "  I  am  compelled  to  ad 
mit  your  argument  reads  a  blamed  sight  stronger  than 
it  sounded  to  me  the  other  day." 

At  this  the  General  Freight  Agent  laughed  compla 
cently. 

"  The  point  about  the  demurrage  especially,"  went  on 
Anderson.  "  I  didn't  remember  that  somehow." 

"  Um,"  said  the  General  Freight  Agent  in  a  puzzled 
way  and  picked  up  the  transcript  of  the  argument.  As  he 
scanned  it,  his  face  grew  more  puzzled ;  then  light  broke. 
"Yes,"  he  replied  emphatically,  "that's  the  strongest 
point,  in  my  judgment." 

"  Well,"  confessed  Anderson,  "  it  knocks  me  out.  I 
am  now  agreeable  to  your  construction." 

The  private  secretary  listened  from  his  little  cubby-hole 
with  mingled  exultation  and  apprehension.  When  the 
visitor  had  gone,  the  General  Freight  Agent  walked  in 
and  tossed  the  transcript  upon  the  secretary's  table.  John 


34  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

looked  up  timidly.  The  Mitchell  brow  was  ridged  and 
thoughtful. 

"  Hampstead,"  he  declared  with  an  air  of  grave  re 
luctance,  "  I  guess  I'll  have  to  lose  you,  after  all." 

"  What,  sir,"  gasped  John,  guilty  terror  shaking  him 
somewhere  inside. 

At  the  change  in  John's  face,  Mitchell  threw  back  his 
head  and  laughed;  one  of  those  huge,  hearty,  bellowing 
laughs  at  his  own  humor,  from  which  he  extracted  so 
much  enjoyment. 

"  Yes,"  he  specified,  "  I  am  going  to  put  you  in  the  rate 
department.  You  have  the  making  of  a  great  railroad 
man  in  you.  tWhat  you  need  now  is  the  fundamentals. 
That's  where  you  get  'em.  Your  brains  are  coming  out, 
John.  I  always  thought  you  had  'em, —  but  it  certainly 
took  you  a  long  time  to  get  any  of  them  into  the  show 
window." 

"  It  was  seven  years  before  you  let  me  get  to  the  win 
dow  at  all,"  suggested  John,  meaning  to  be  a  little  bit 
vengeful. 

"  Nobody's  fault  but  yours,  my  boy,"  said  the  G.  F. 
A.  brusquely,  over  his  shoulder.  "  By  the  way,"  he  re 
marked,  turning  back  again,  "  you  aren't  afraid  of  people 
any  more,  either." 

John  flushed  with  pleasure.  This  was  really  the  most 
desirable  compliment  Mitchell  could  bestow. 

"  I  think  I  am  getting  a  little  more  confidence  in  my 
self,"  the  big  man  confessed,  glowing  modestly. 

This  was  what  three  months  of  Kenton  and  "  old 
Delsarte  ",  as  the  actor  called  the  great  French  apostle 
of  intelligible  anatomy,  had  done  for  John. 

But  Kenton  and  "  old  Delsarte  "  were  doing  something 
else  to  John  that  was  vastly  more  serious,  but  of  which 
Robert  Mitchell  received  no  hint  until  nearly  a  year 
later,  when  the  knowledge  came  to  him  suddenly  with  a 


WHEN  THE  DARK  WENT  AWAY          35. 

shock  that  jarred  and  almost  disconcerted  him.  It  was. 
somewhere  about  noon  of  a  day  in  February,  and  he  had 
just  touched  the  button  for  John  Hampstead,  rate  clerk. 
Instead  of  John,  Heitmuller  answered  the  summons,, 
laughing  softly. 

Now  in  the  rate  department  John  had  made  an  amaz 
ing  success.  In  six  months  gray-headed  clerks  were 
seeking  his  opinions  earnestly.  At  the  present  moment 
he  was  in  charge  of  all  rates  west  of  Ogden,  Albuquerque, 
and  El  Paso,  and  half  the  department  took  orders  from 
him. 

"  John's  away  at  rehearsal,"  explained  Heitmuller,  still 
chuckling. 

"  At  rehearsal?" 

"  Yes, —  he's  going  to  play  Ursus,  the  giant,  in  Quo 
Vadis,  with  Mowrey's  Stock  Company  at  the  Burbank 
next  week." 

"The  hell!"  ejaculated  the  General  Freight  Agent, 
while  a  look  of  blank  astonishment  came  upon  his  usually 
placid  features.  "  When  did  that  bug  bite  him?  " 

"  I  can't  tell  yet  whether  it's  a  bite  or  only  an  itch/* 
grinned  Heitmuller.  "  For  a  while  he  was  reciting  at 
smokers  and  parties  and  things,  and  then  I  heard  he  was 
teaching  elocution  at  home  nights.  Now  he's  got  a  small 
dramatic  company  and  goes  out  around  giving  one-act 
plays  and  scenes  from  Shakespeare.  Pretty  good,  too, 
they  say !  " 

"  Well,  I  be  damned,"  Mitchell  commented,  when  Heit 
muller  had  finished. 

"  He's  6nly  away  from  eleven-thirty  to  one-thirty,"  ex 
plained  Heitmuller.  "  He  was  so  anxious  and  does  so 
much  more  work  than  any  two  men  that  I  couldn't  refuse 
him." 

"Of  course  not,"  assented  Mitchell. 

"  Besides,"  added  the  chief  clerk,  "  he  might  have  gone,, 


36  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

anyway.     John's  getting  a  little  headstrong,  I've  noticed, 
since  he's  coming  out  so  fast." 

"  Naturally,"  observed  Mitchell  drily,  after  which  he 
dismissed  Heitmuller  and  appeared  to  dismiss  the  subject 
by  turning  again  to  his  desk. 


CHAPTER  IV 

ADVENT   AND  ADVENTURE 

BUT  the  General  Freight  Agent  took  care  that  Mrs.. 
Mitchell,  Bessie,  and  himself  were  in  a  box  at  the  Bur- 
bank  on  the  following  Monday  night,  when  the  curtain 
went  up  on  the  Mowrey  Stock  Company's  sumptuous 
production  of  Quo  Vadis,  which  for  more  than  nine  days 
was  the  talk  of  the  town  in  the  city  of  angels,  oranges, 
atmosphere,  and  oil.  The  Mitchells  strained  their  eyes 
for  a  sight  of  their  late-grown  protege,  but  it  appeared  he 
was  not  "  on."  However,  in  the  midst  of  a  garden  scene 
with  Roman  lords,  ladies,  soldiers  in  armor  and  slaves 
decking  the  view,  there  appeared  a  huge  barbarian,  long 
of  hair  and  beard,  his  torso  bound  round  with  an  immense 
bearskin,  his  sandals  tied  with  thongs,  his  sinewy  limbs 
apparently  unclad,  savage  bands  of  silver  upon  his  massy, 
muscled  arms,  the  alpine  ruggedness  of  his  countenance 
and  the  light  of  a  fanatical  devotion  that  gleamed  in  his 
eye  contributing  in  their  every  detail  to  make  the  crea 
ture  appear  the  thing  the  programme  proclaimed  him, 
"  Ursus,  a  Christian  Slave." 

But  the  programme  claimed  something  more :  that  this 
Ursus  was  John  Hampstead. 

Mitchell  gaped  and  then  rocked  uneasily.  The  thing- 
was  unbelievable.  If  the  man  would  only  speak,  per 
haps  some  tone  of  voice  —  but  the  man  did  not  speak,  not 
even  move.  He  stood  half  in  the  background,  far  up  the 
center  of  the  stage,  while  the  talk  and  action  of  the  piece 
went  on  beneath  his  lofty  brow,  like  some  mountain  tow- 


38  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

ering  above  a  lakelet  in  which  ripples  sparkle  and  fish 
are  leaping.  At  length,  however,  stage  attention  does 
center  on  Ursus,  when  the  man  enacting  St.  Peter,  struck 
by  the  nature-man's  appearance  of  gigantic  strength, 
observes : 

"  Thou  art  strong,  my  son?  " 

The  rugged  human  statue  moved.  In  a  voice  that  was 
low  at  first  but  broke  quickly  into  reverberating  tones 
which  filled  the  theater  to  the  rafters,  the  answer  came : 

"  Holy  Father !     I  can  break  iron  like  wood !  " 

As  the  speech  was  delivered,  the  eye  of  Ursus  gleamed, 
the  folded  arms  unbent,  and  one  mighty  muscle  flexed 
the  forearm  through  a  short  but  significant  arc,  after 
which  the  figure  resumed  its  pose  of  respectful  but  im 
pressive  immobility. 

In  that  single  speech  and  gesture  Hampstead  had 
achieved  a  personal  success  and  keyed  the  play  as  plau 
sible,  for  by  it  he  had  come  to  birth  before  a  theater-full 
as  a  character  equal  to  the  prodigious  feats  of  strength 
upon  which  the  action  turned. 

"  Go  to  the  stable,  Ursus !  "  commanded  an  authori 
tative  voice. 

The  huge  head  of  the  hairy  man,  with  its  crown  of 
long,  wild  locks  was  inclined  humbly,  and  with  an  odd, 
rolling  stride  suggestive  of  enormous  animal-like 
strength,  he  swung  deliberately  across  the  scene  and  out 
of  it. 

Robert  Mitchell,  staring  fixedly,  suddenly  nodded  his 
head  with  satisfaction.  At  last,  in  that  careening  walk, 
he  had  seen  something  that  he  recognized.  That  was 
the  walk  of  Hampstead;  but  now  Mitchell  recalled  it 
was  long  since  he  had  seen  that  gait,  long  since  he  had 
heard  the  office  door  reverberate  from  a  bang  of  one  of 
those  hip  joints,  long  since  the  big  man  had  made  any 
conspicuous  exhibition  of  the  physical  awkwardness  that 


ADVENT  AND  ADVENTURE  39 

once  had  been  so  characteristic.  And  now?  Why  now 
John  was  an  actor.  Not  Nero  yonder,  harp  in  hand, 
looked  more  nearly  like  his  part.  Hampstead  had  put  on 
the  pose,  the  voice,  the  walk,  as  he  had  put  on  the  bear 
skin  and  the  beard. 

"  Isn't  he  w-o-n-d-e-r-f-u-l  ? "  breathed  Bessie,  with  a 
little  squeeze  of  her  father's  arm. 

Mitchell  laughed  amiably  and  reached  out  for  the 
curling  lock  upon  his  brow  which  was  his  mainstay  in 
time  of  mental  shipwreck  and  began  to  twist  it,  while 
he  waited  impatiently  to  see  more  of  Ursus. 

But  the  play  appeared  to  have  forgotten  Ursus.  A 
great  party  was  on  in  the  palace  of  Caesar.  The  stage 
was  alive  with  lights  and  music,  and  with  the  movements 
of  many  people  —  senators  in  togas,  generals  in  armor, 
women  with  jewels  in  their  hair  and  golden  bands  upon 
their  white,  gracefully  swelling  arms.  There  was  drink 
ing  and  laughter  and  high  carousal.  In  right  center, 
Caesar  upon  his  throne  was  singing  and  pretending  to 
strike  notes  from  a  harp  of  pasteboard  and  gilt,  notes 
which  in  reality  proceeded  from  the  orchestra  pit.  At 
lowrer  left  upon  a  couch  sat  Lygia,  the  Christian  maiden, 
beautiful  beyond  imagining  and  being  greatly  annoyed 
by  the  love-makings  of  the  half-intoxicated  Roman 
soldier,  Vinicius,  who  had  laid  aside  his  helmet  and  his 
sword,  and  was  pleading  with  the  lovely  but  embarrassed 
girl,  at  first  upon  his  knees,  then  standing,  with  one  knee 
upon  the  couch,  while  he  trailed  his  fingers  luxuriously 
through  the  glossy  blackness  of  her  hair. 

As  the  love-making  proceeded,  Lygia's  apprehension 
grew.  When  Vinicius  pressed  her  tresses  to  his  lips,  she 
shrank  from  him.  When,  after  another  cup  of  wine  and 
just  as  the  whole  court  was  in  raptures  over  the  con 
clusion  of  Caesar's  song,  Vinicius  attempted  to  place  his 
kisses  yet  more  daringly,  Lygia  started  up  with  a  cry  of 


40  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

terror.  Instantly  there  sounded  from  the  wings  a  bel 
lowing  roar  of  rage,  and  like  a  flying  fury,  the  wild, 
hairy  figure  of  Ursus  came  bounding  upon  the  scene. 

Seizing  Vinicius  by  the  shoulders,  Ursus  shook  him 
till  all  his  harness  rattled,  then  hurled  him  up  stage  and 
crashing  to  the  floor.  Lygia  was  swaying  dizzily  as  if 
about  to  faint,  but  with  another  leap  Ursus  had  gained 
her  side  and  swung  her  into  his  arms,  after  which  he 
turned  and  went  hurdling  across  the  stage,  running  in 
long,  springing  strides  as  lightly  as  a  deer,  the  fair,  de 
licious  form  of  the  girl  balanced  buoyantly  on  his  arms, 
while  her  dark  hair  streamed  out  and  downward  over  his 
shoulder  —  all  of  this  to  the  complete  consternation  of  the 
half -drunken  Court  of  Caesar  and  the  vast  and  tumul- 
tuously  expressed  delight  of  the  audience,  which  kept  the 
curtain  frisking  up  and  down  repeatedly  over  this  cli 
matic  conclusion  of  the  second  act,  while  the  principals 
posed  and  bowed  and  posed  again  and  bowed  again,  to 
the  audience,  to  themselves,  and  to  the  scenery.  Robert 
Mitchell  even-  supposed  that  Ursus  was  bowing  to  him, 
so  being  naturally  polite  and  somewhat  beside  himself, 
the  General  Freight  Agent  was  on  the  point  of  bowing 
back  again  when  Bessie  screamed : 

"  Oh !     Oh !     He  bowed  directly  at  me." 

By  this  time,  however,  the  curtain  had  recovered  from 
its  frenzy  and  stayed  soberly  down  while  the  lights  came 
up  so  the  people  could  read  the  advertisements  on  the 
front.  Immediately  the  tongues  of  the  audience  were  all 
Si-buzz,  and  industriously  passing  up  and  down  the  lines 
of  the  seats  was  the  information  that  John  Hampstead 
was  a  local  character.  "  Oh,  yes,  indeed, —  instructor  in 
public  speaking  at  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Associa 
tion." 

In  due  course,  this  piece  of  interesting  information 
reached  the  Mitchells  in  their  box. 


ADVENT  AND  ADVENTURE  41 

"  I  knew  it  all  along,"  gurgled  Bessie  proudly. 

"  I  begin  to  be  jealous,"  announced  Mrs.  Mitchell, 
broad  of  face,  expansive  of  heart,  aggressive  of  disposi 
tion.  "  I  want  all  these  people  to  know  that  Ursus  is  our 
rate  clerk/' 

"  And  I  want  them  to  know,"  said  Mr.  Mitchell,  by 
way  of  venting  his  disapproval,  "  that  he  is  spoiling  a 
mighty  good  rate  clerk  to  make  a  mighty  poor  actor." 

"  But,"  pouted  the  loyal  Bessie,  "  he  is  not  a  poor  actor. 
He's  a  w-o-n-d-e-r-f-u-l  actor !  You  are  spoiling  the  plain 
truth  to  make  a  poor  epigram.  You,"  and  she  looked 
up  pertly  at  her  father,  "  you  are  just  a  bunch  of  sour 
grapes!  You  kept  my  poor  Jack's  nose  on  the  grind 
stone  so  long  that  he  broke  out  in  a  new  place,  and  now 
you  are  afraid  you'll  lose  him." 

"  Your  poor  Jack !  "  sneered  Mrs.  Mitchell  merrily. 

"  Yes  —  mine !  "  answered  Bessie  stoutly.  "  I  always 
told  you  Jack  Hampstead  was  a  great  man  in  disguise. 
I  saw  him  first  —  before  he  saw  himself,  almost.  I'm 
going  to  be  his  friend  for  always  and  for  always.  Oh, 
look  there!" 

The  curtain  had  gone  up  on  an  odd,  out-of-the-way 
corner  of  the  imperial  city.  There  had  been  some  col 
loquy  over  the  gate  of  a  small  close,  participated  in  by 
the  vibrant  voice  of  an  unseen  Ursus  and  the  calmer  one 
of  a  visible  St.  Peter,  after  which  the  gate  opened  and 
Ursus  entered,  bearing  the  still  fainting  form  of  Lygia 
in  his  arms ;  giving,  of  course,  the  desired  impression  that 
this  fair  figure  of  a  woman  had  been  nestling  on  his  great 
bosom  ever  since  the  curtain  went  down  some  twelve 
minutes  before,  an  inference  that  led  some  of  the  clerks 
in  the  General  Freight  Office  and  other  persons  scattered 
through  the  audience,  to  envy  John.  This  presumption, 
however,  was  some  distance  from  the  truth.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  Lygia  had  but  recently  resumed  her  position  in 


42  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

the  arms  of  Ursus,  while  two  stage  hands,  lying  prone, 
had  plucked  open  the  gate;  and  various  happenings  quite 
unsuspected  of  the  audience  had  intervened,  at  least  one 
of  which  had  been  a  severe  shock  to  the  Puritan  nature 
of  John  Hampstead. 

However,  there  was  the  dramatic  impression  already 
referred  to,  and  it  ate  its  way  like  acid  into  the  con 
sciousness  of  at  least  one  person  in  the  playhouse. 

Ursus,  after  looking  about  him  for  a  moment  in  the 
little  yard  of  the  Christian's  house  to  make  sure  he  was 
entirely  surrounded  by  friends,  drew  his  fair  burden 
closer  and,  as  if  by  a  protective  instinct,  bent  over  it 
with  a  look  of  tenderness  so  long  and  concentrated  that 
his  flaxen  beard  toyed  with  the  white  cheek,  and  his  flaxen 
locks  gleamed  for  a  moment  amid  the  raven  ones. 

"  Well,"  commented  Bessie,  in  a  tone  that  mingled 
sharp  annoyance  with  that  judicially  critical  note  which 
is  the  right  of  all  high-school  girls  in  their  last  year,  "  I 
do  not  see  any  dramatic  necessity  for  prolonging  this. 
Why  doesn't  he  stick  her  face  under  the  fountain  there 
for  a  moment  and  then  lay  her  on  the  grass  ?  " 

Mercifully,  Bessie  was  not  compelled  to  contain  her 
annoyance  too  long.  Ursus  did  eventually  relinquish  his 
hold  upon  the  lady,  and  the  piece  moved  on  from  scene 
to  scene  to  the  final  holocaust  of  Rome. 

With  the  news  instinct  breaking  out  above  the  critical, 
the  dramatic  columns  of  the  morning  papers  gave  the 
major  stickful  of  type  to  the  performance  of  that  his 
trionic  athlete,  John  Hampstead,  forgetting  to  mention 
his  connection  with  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.,  but  making  clear 
that  in  daylight  he  was  a  highly  respected  member  of  the 
staff  of  Robert  Mitchell,  the  well-known  railroad  man. 

But  to  John,  the  process  of  conversion  from  rate  clerk 
to  actor  had  been  even  more  exciting  than  the  demonstra 
tion  of  the  fact  proved  to  his  friends. 


ADVENT  AND  ADVENTURE  43 

To  begin  with,  it  was  an  experience  quite  unforgettable 
to  the  chairman  of  the  Prayer  Meeting  Committee  of  the 
Christian  Endeavor  Society  of  the  grand  old  First  Church 
when  for  the  first  time  he  found  himself  upon  the  stage 
of  the  Burbank  at  rehearsal  time,  with  twenty-five  or 
thirty  real  actors  and  actresses  about  him.  He  looked 
them  over  curiously,  with  a  puritanic  instinct  for  moral 
appraisal,  as  they  stood,  lounged,  sat,  gossiped,  smoked, 
laughed  or  did  several  of  these  things  at  once;  yet  all 
keeping  a  wary  eye  and  ear  for  the  two  men  who  sat  at 
the  little  table  in  the  center  of  the  bare,  empty  stage  with 
their  heads  together  over  a  manuscript. 

"  Just  about  like  other  people,"  confessed  Hampstead 
to  himself,  with  something  of  disappointment. 

There  were  some  tailor  suited  women,  there  were  some 
smartly  dressed  young  men,  there  were  some  very  nice 
girls,  not  more  than  a  whit  different  in  look  and  manner 
from  the  typists  in  the  general  office.  There  were  two 
or  three  gray-haired  men  who,  so  far  as  appearance  and 
demeanor  went,  might  have  served  as  deacons  of  the  First 
Church.  There  were  a  couple  of  dignified,  matronly- 
looking  elderly  ladies  with  fancy-work  or  mending  in 
their  laps,  as  they  swayed  to  and  fro  in  the  wicker  rockers 
that  were  a  part  of  the  furnishings  for  Act  II  of  the 
play  then  running.  These  two  ladies,  so  far  as  John 
could  see,  might  have  been  respectively  President  of  the 
Ladies'  Aid  and  of  the  ^Woman's  Missionary  Society,  in 
stead  of  what  they  were,  "  character  old  women,"  as  he 
later  learned. 

Totaling  his  impressions,  Mowrey's  Stock  Company 
seemed  like  a  large  exclusive  family  in  which  he  was 
suffered  but  not  seen.  Nobody  introduced  him  to  any 
body.  Mowrey  merely  threw  him  a  glance,  and  that  was 
not  of  recognition  but  of  observation  that  he  was  pres 
ent. 


44  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  First  act ! "  snapped  the  manager,  with  a  voice  as 
sharp  as  the  clatter  of  the  ruler  with  which  he  rapped  upon 
the  table.  Stepping  forward,  prompt  book  in  one  hand, 
ruler  in  the  other  for  a  pointer,  he  began  to  outline  the 
scene  upon  the  bare  stage : 

'''  This  chair  is  a  tree  —  that  stage  brace  is  a  bench  — 
this  box  is  a  rock,"  and  so  forth. 

The  rehearsal  had  begun.  It  moved  swiftly,  for  Mow- 
rey  was  a  man  with  snap  to  him.  His  words  were 
quick,  nervous,  few  —  until  angry.  His  glance  was  im 
perative.  It  was  all  business,  hot,  relentless  pressure  of 
human  beings  into  moulds,  like  hammering  damp  sand 
in  a  foundry. 

"Go  there!  Stand  here!  Laugh!  Weep!  Look 
pleased !  Feign  intoxication !  "  Each  short  word  was 
a  blow  of  Mowrey's  upon  the  wet  human  sand. 

John's  name  was  never  mentioned.  Mowrey  called 
him  by  the  name  of  his  part,  Ursus.  Ursus  was  "  on  "  in 
the  first  act,  but  with  nothing  to  do,  and  his  eyes  were 
wide  with  watching.  One  woman  in  particular  attracted 
him.  She  was  tall  and  shapely,  clad  in  a  close-fitting 
tailored  suit,  with  hat  and  veil  that  seemed  to  match  both 
her  garments  and  herself.  She  moved  through  her  part 
with  a  kind  of  distinguished  nonchalance,  her  veil  half 
raised,  and  a  vagrant  fold  of  it  flicking  daringly  at  a  rosy 
spot  on  her  cheek  when  she  turned  suddenly;  while  in 
her  gloved  hands  she  held  a  short  pencil  with  which,  from 
time  to  time,  additional  stage  directions  were  noted  upon 
the  pages  of  her  part.  This  accomplished  and  really 
beautiful  young  actress  was  Miss  Marien  Dounay,  one  of 
the  two  leading  women  of  the  company. 

Hampstead  was  inexperienced  of  women.  He  con 
fessed  it  now  to  himself.  But  this  was  to  be  the  day  of 
his  opportunity,  and  he  felt  the  blood  of  adventure  leap 
ing  in  his  veins.  In  his  consciousness,  too,  floated  little 


ADVENT  AND  ADVENTURE  45 

arrows  like  indicators,  and  as  if  by  common  agreement, 
they  pointed  their  heads  toward  Miss  Dounay. 

If  it  were  she  now  who  played  Lygia?  Yes;  it  was 
she.  They  were  calling  her  Lygia.  Hampstead  smiled 
to  himself.  Presently  he  chuckled  softly,  and  the 
chuckle  appeared  to  loose  a  small  avalanche  of  new-born 
emotions  that  leaped  and  jumbled  somewhere  inside. 

But  the  first  encounter  was  disappointing.  Miss 
Dounay  seized  him  by  the  arm,  without  a  glance, —  her 
eyes  being  fixed  on  Mowrey, —  and  led  the  big  man  out 
of  the  scene  exactly  as  if  he  had  been  a  wooden  Indian 
on  rollers. 

"  Now,"  she  said,  "  you  have  just  carried  me  off." 
Her  voice  had  wonderful  tones  in  it,  tones  that  started 
more  avalanches  inside;  but  she  appeared  as  unconscious 
of  the  tones  and  their  effect  as  of  him.  She  was  making 
another  note  in  her  part. 

"  Better  practice  that  '  carry  off  stage '  before  we  try 
it  at  rehearsal,"  called  the  sharp  voice  of  Mowrey.  His 
eyes  and  his  remark  were  addressed  to  Miss  Dounay. 
Miss  Dounay  nodded. 

"  Shall  we  ?  "  she  said,  and  looked  straight  at  Hamp 
stead,  giving  him  his  first  glance  into  self-confident  eyes 
which  were  clear,  brownish-black,  with  liquescent,  un 
sounded  depths.  In  form  it  was  a  question  she  had 
asked;  in  effect  it  was  a  command  from  a  very  cool  and 
business-like  young  person. 

"  I  presume  we  had  better,"  said  John,  affecting  a  fool 
ish  little  laugh,  which  did  not,  however,  get  very  far  be 
cause  the  earnest  air  of  Miss  Dounay  was  inhospitable  to 
levity. 

"  See  here !  "  she  instructed.  "  I  throw  up  my  arms  in 
a  faint.  My  left  arm  falls  across  your  right  shoulder. 
At  the  same  time  I  give  a  little  spring  with  my  right  leg, 
and  I  throw  up  my  left  leg  like  this.  At  the  same  instant 


46  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

you  throw  your  right  arm  under  my  shoulders,  your  left 
arm  gathers  my  legs ;  I  will  hold  'em  stiff.  There !  " 

Miss  Dounay's  arm  was  on  John's  shoulder,  and  she 
was  preparing  to  suit  the  rest  of  her  action  to  her  words. 
"  Without  any  effort  to  lift  me,"  she  continued,  talking 
now  into  his  ear,  "  I  will  be  extended  in  your  arms.  All 
you  have  to  do  is  to  be  taking  your  running  stride  as  I 
come  to  you,  and  after  that  to  hold  me  poised  while  you 
bound  off  the  stage.  Can  you  do  it  ?  " 

With  this  crisp,  challenging  question  on  her  lips,  Miss 
Dounay  completed  the  proposed  manoeuvre  of  her  lower 
limbs,  and  John  found  himself  with  the  long,  exquisitely 
moulded  body  of  a  beautiful  woman  balancing  in  his  arms, 
while  a  foolish  quiver  passed  over  him  and  shook  him  till 
he  actually  trembled. 

"  Am  I  so  heavy?"  asked  a  matter-of-fact  voice  from 
his  shoulder. 

"  You  are  not  heavy  at  all,"  replied  Hampstead,  hotly 
provoked  at  himself. 

"  Run,  then,"  she  commanded. 

The  resultant  effort  was  a  few  staggering,  ungraceful 
steps. 

"  Dounay  weighs  a  hundred  and  fifty  if  she  weighs  an 
ounce,"  said  a  passing  voice. 

John,  all  chagrin  as  he  deposited  the  lady  upon  her 
feet,  saw  her  lip  curl,  and  her  dark  eyes  flash  scornfully 
at  the  leading  juvenile  man  who,  with  grimacing  intent 
to  tease,  had  made  the  remark  to  the  ingenue  as  both 
passed  near. 

"  Insolence !  "  hissed  Miss  Dounay  after  the  scoffer, 
and  turned  again  to  Hampstead,  speaking  sharply. 
"  Very  bad !  You  must  be  in  your  running  stride  when 
my  weight  falls  on  you.  We  must  practice." 

And  practice  they  did,  at  every  spare  moment  of  the 
rehearsal  during  the  entire  week.  From  these  "prac- 


A  foolish  quiver  passed  over  him  and  shook  him  till  he 
actually  trembled.     Page  46. 


ADVENT  AND  ADVENTURE  47 

tices  ",  Hampstead  learned  an  unusual  number  of  things 
about  women  which,  in  his  limited  experience,  he  had 
either  not  known  or  which  had  not  been  brought  home  to 
him  before.  Some  of  these  he  presumed  applied  gener 
ally  to  all  women;  others,  he  had  no  doubt,  were  par 
ticular  to  Miss  Dounay. 

As,  for  instance,  when  he  looked  down  at  her  face 
where  it  lay  in  the  curve  of  his  arm,  he  saw  that  the  oval 
outline  of  her  cheeks  was  startlingly  perfect;  that  there 
were  pools  of  liquid  fire  in  her  eyes;  that  her  lips  were 
beautifully  and  naturally  red;  that  they  were  long,  pliable, 
sensitive,  with  fleeting  curves  that  raced  like  ripples  upon 
these  shores  of  velvet  and  ruby,  expressing  as  they  ran  an 
infinite  variety  of  passing  moods.  The  chin,  too,  came  in 
for  a  great  deal  of  this  attention.  It  was  round  and 
smooth  at  the  corners,  with  a  delicately  chiseled  vertical 
cleft  in  it,  which  at  times  ran  up  and  met  a  horizontal  cleft 
that  appeared  beneath  the  lower  lip,  when  any  slight 
breath  of  displeasure  brought  a  pout  to  that  ruby,  pendant 
lobe.  This  meeting-place  of  the  two  clefts  formed  a  kind 
of  transitory  dimple,  a  trysting-place  of  all  sorts  of  fugi 
tive  attractions  which  exercised  a  singular  fascination  for 
the  big  man. 

He  used  to  wonder  what  the  sensation  would  be  like 
to  sink  his  lips  in  that  precious,  delectable  valley.  It 
would  have  been  physically  simple.  A  slight  lifting  of 
his  right  arm  and  shoulder,  a  slight  declension  of  his 
neck,  and  the  mere  instinctive  planting  of  his  lips,  and 
the  thing  was  done.  However,  John  had  no  thought 
of  doing  this.  In  the  first  place  he  wouldn't  —  without 
permission;  for  he  was  a  man  of  honor  and  of  self-con 
trol.  In  the  second  place,  he  wouldn't  because  a  woman 
was  a  thing  very  sacred  to  him,  and  a  kiss,  a  deliberate 
and  flesh-tingling  kiss,  was  a  caress  to  be  held  as  sacred 
as  the  woman  herself  and  for  the  expression  of  an  emo- 


48  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

tion  he  had  not  yet  felt  for  any  woman ;  a  statement  which 
to  the  half-cynical  might  prove  again  that  John  Hamp- 
stead  was  a  very  inexperienced  and  very  monk-minded 
youth  indeed  to  be  abroad  in  the  unromanticism  of  this 
twentieth  century.  Yet  the  fact  remains  that  Hampstead 
did  not  consciously  conspire  to  violate  the  neutrality  of 
this  tiny,  alluring  haunt  of  tantalizing  beauty  which  lurked 
bewitchingly  between  the  red  lower  lip  and  the  white  firm 
chin  of  Miss  Marien  Dounay. 

But  there  were  other  things  that  John  was  learning 
swiftly,  some  of  which  amounted  to  positive  disillusion 
ment.  One  was  that  a  woman's  body  is  not  necessarily 
so  sacred  nor  so  inviolate,  after  all.  That  instead  of  in 
violate,  it  may  be  made  inviolable  by  a  sort  of  desexing 
at  will.  Miss  Dounay  could  do  this  and  did  do  it,  so 
that  for  instance  when  her  form  stiffened  in  his  arms,  it 
was  no  more  like  what  he  supposed  the  touch  of  a 
woman's  body  should  be  than  a  post.  In  the  first  place 
the  body  itself,  beneath  that  trim,  tailored  suit,  appeared 
to  be  sheathed  in  steel  from  the  shoulder  almost  to  the 
knee.  John  had  supposed  that  corsets  were  to  confine  the 
waist.  This  one,  if  that  were  what  it  was  and  not  some 
sort  of  armor  put  on  for  these  rehearsals,  encased  the 
whole  body. 

Another  thing  that  contributed  to  this  desexing  of  the 
female  person  was  Miss  Dounay's  bearing  toward  him 
self.  He  might  have  been  a  mere  mechanical  device  for 
any  regard  she  showed  him  at  rehearsals.  She  pushed 
or  pulled  him  about,  commanded  the  bend  and  adjust 
ment  of  his  arms  as  if  he  had  been  an  artificial  man,  and 
never  by  any  hint  indicated  that  she  thought  of  him  as  a 
person,  least  of  all  as  a  male  person.  Undoubtedly  this 
robbed  his  new  adventure  of  some  of  its  spice.  But  a 
change  came.  When  for  five  days  John  was  undecided 
whether  he  should  admire  this  manner  of  hers  as  supreme 


ADVENT  AND  ADVENTURE  49 

artistic  abstraction  or  resent  it  as  supercilious  disdain, 
Margaret  O'Neil,  one  of  the  character  old  ladies  who  had 
constituted  herself  a  combination  of  critic  and  chaperone 
of  these  "  carry "  practices,  turned,  after  a  word  with 
Miss  Dounay,  and  said : 

"  We  should  like  to  know  who  it  is  that  is  carrying  us 
about." 

"  Why,  certainly,"  exclaimed  John,  all  his  doubt  dis 
appearing  in  a  toothful  smile  as  he  swept  off  his  hat. 
"  My  name  is  Hampstead,  John  Hampstead." 

"  Miss  Dounay,  allow  me  to  present  Mr.  Hampstead," 
said  Miss  O'Neil,  without  the  moulting  of  an  eyelash. 

Miss  Dounay  extended  her  hand  cordially  for  a  lofty, 
English  handshake,  accompanied  by  an  agreeable  smile 
and  a  chuckling  laugh,  understood  by  John  to  be  in 
recognition  of  the  oddness  of  the  situation. 

After  this,  things  were  somewhat  different.  There 
was  less  sense  of  strain  on  his  part,  and  he  began  to 
realize  that  there  had  been  some  strain  upon  hers  which 
now  was  relaxed.  Her  body  was  less  post-like;  and  to 
ward  the  end  of  rehearsal,  when  possibly  she  was  a  little 
tired,  it  lay  in  his  arms  quite  placidly,  relaxing  until  its 
curves  yielded  and  conformed  to  the  muscular  lines  of 
his  own  torso. 

Yet  Miss  Dounay  never  betrayed  the  slightest  self- 
consciousness  at  such  moments.  Whatever  the  woman 
as  woman  might  be,  she  was,  as  an  actress,  so  absolutely 
devoted  to  the  creation  of  the  character  she  was  rehears 
ing,  so  painstakingly  careful  to  reproduce  in  every  detail 
of  tone  and  action  the  true  impression  of  a  pure-minded, 
Christian  maiden  that  Hampstead,  with  his  firm  religious 
backgrounding,  unhesitatingly  imputed  to  the  woman  her 
self  all  the  virtues  of  the  chaste  and  incomparable  Lygia. 

When  dress-rehearsal  time  came  at  midnight  on  Sun 
day,  just  after  the  regular  performance  had  been  con- 


50  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

eluded,  and  John  saw  Miss  Dounay  for  the  first  time  in  the 
dress  of  the  character,  his  soul  was  enraptured.  The 
simple  folds  of  her  Grecian  robe  were  furled  at  the  waist 
and  then  swept  downward  in  one  billowy  leap,  unrelieved 
in  their  impressive  whiteness  by  any  touch  of  color,  save 
that  afforded  by  the  jet-bright  eyes  with  their  assumed 
worshipful  look  and  the  wide,  flowing  stream  of  her  dark, 
luxuriant  hair,  which,  loosely  bound  at  the  neck,  waved 
downward  to  her  hips.  The  devout  curve  of  her  ala 
baster  neck,  the  gleaming  shoulders,  the  full,  tapering, 
ivory  arms,  her  sandaled  bare  feet  —  yes,  John  looked 
close  to  make  sure,  and  they  were  actually  bare  — 
rounded  out  the  picture. 

Marien  Dounay  stood  forth  more  like  an  angel  vision 
than  a  woman,  at  once  so  beautiful  and  so  adorable  that 
big,  sincere,  open-eyed  John  Hampstead  worshipped  her 
where  she  stood  —  worshipped  her  and  loved  her  —  as  a 
man  should  love  an  angel.  Yet  as  he  looked,  he  was 
almost  guiltily  conscious  that  he  knew  a  secret  about  this 
angelic  vision, —  that  this  chiseled  flesh  with  rounded, 
shapely  contours  that  would  be  the  despair  of  any  sculp 
tor  was  not  as  marble-like  as  it  looked,  was,  indeed,  soft 
to  the  touch  and  warm,  radiant  and  magnetic. 

And  John,  blissfully  aglow  with  his  spiritual  ardor,  had 
no  faint  suspicion  that  his  secret  might  kill  his  illusion 
dead,  nor  that  his  devotion  would  survive  that  decease, 
although  something  very  like  this  happened  on  the  night 
of  the  first  performance. 

The  great  second  act  was  on.  Things  were  not  going 
as  smoothly  as  they  appeared  to  from  the  front.  Even 
the  inexperienced  Hampstead,  as  he  waited  for  his  cue, 
could  see  that  his  angel  was  being  enormously  vexed  by 
the  manner  in  which  Vinicius  made  love.  Henry 
Lester  was  a  brilliant  actor,  but  flighty  and  erratic.  Dur 
ing  rehearsal  Mowrey  had  much  trouble  in  getting  him 


ADVENT  AND  ADVENTURE  51 

to  memorize  accurately  the  business  of  his  part.  He 
would  do  one  thing  one  way  to-day  and  forget  it  or  re 
verse  it  on  the  next.  To-night  Lester  was  committing 
all  these  histrionic  crimes.  Miss  Dounay  had  contin 
ually  to  adapt  herself  to  his  impulsive  erraticisms,  to 
shift  speeches  and  alter  business.  The  climax  of  ex 
asperation  came  when  one  of  the  wide  metal  circlets  upon 
his  arm  became  entangled  in  the  gossamer  threads  of 
Lygia's  hair  and  pulled  it  painfully.  Yet  the  actress  was 
sufficiently  accomplished  to  play  her  own  part  irreproach 
ably  and  deliver  John's  cue  at  the  right  moment  to  secure 
the  startling  entrance  already  described,  and  thus  to  be 
gracefully  and  dramatically  swept  away  from  the  rude 
advances  of  her  importunate  lover. 

It  was  at  the  end  of  this  particular  scene  and  off  stage, 
when  the  curtain  was  descending  to  the  accompaniment 
of  applause  from  the  audience,  that  the  death  of  John's 
illusion  came.  For  a  delicious  instant,  he  was  still  hold 
ing  Lygia  from  the  floor  as  if  instinctively  sheltering  her 
amidst  the  general  confusion  of  crowding  actors  and 
hurrying  stage  hands.  Nothing  loth,  she  lay  at  rest,  with 
eyes  closed  and  features  composed  as  if  in  the  faint.  To 
the  raw,  impressionable  young  man,  Marien  had  never 
looked  so  much  an  angel  as  at  this  moment;  and  now 
she  was  coming  to,  as  if  still  in  character.  Her  eyelids 
fluttered  but  did  not  open,  and  then  her  lips  moved 
slightly,  stiffly,  under  their  load  of  greasy  carmine,  as  if 
she  would  speak.  In  self-forgetful  ecstasy,  Hampstead 
bent  eagerly  to  receive  the  confidence.  Perhaps  she  was 
going  to  thank  him,  to  whisper  a  word  of  congratulation. 
Whatever  the  communication  might  be,  his  soul  was  in 
raptures  of  delightful  anticipation  as  he  felt  her  breath 
upon  his  cheek. 

The  communication  was  made  promptly  and  unhesi 
tatingly,  after  which  Miss  Dounay  alertly  swung  her  feet 


52  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

to  the  floor  and  walked  out  upon  the  stage  to  receive  her 
curtain  call,  leading  Ursus  by  the  hand,  mentally  dazed, 
inwardly  wabbling,  outwardly  bowing, —  trying,  in  fact, 
to  do  just  as  the  others  did.  But  in  John's  mind  now 
there  was  this  numbing  sense  of  shock,  for  he  could  not 
refuse  to  believe  his  ears,  and  what  this  angelic  vision 
had  breathed  into  them  in  tones  of  cool,  emphatic  convic 
tion,  was : 

"  What  a  damn  fool  that  man  Lester  is !  " 

Off  the  stage  again  Hampstead  stumbled  about  amid 
flying  scenery,  racing  stage  hands,  and  a  surging  mass  of 
supernumeraries,  like  a  man  recovering  consciousness.  He 
wanted  to  get  out  of  sight  somewhere.  He  had  the  feel 
ing  of  having  been  stripped  naked.  Every  vestige  of  his 
religious  adoration  had  been  dynamited  out  of  existence. 
This  was  no  Christian  maiden  but  an  actress  playing  a 
part.  As  for  the  woman  herself,  she  was  very  blase  and 
very  modern,  who,  at  this  moment,  as  he  could  see  by  a 
glance  into  the  open  door  of  her  dressing  room,  was  sit 
ting  with  crossed  knees,  head  back  and  enveloped  in  a 
halo  of  smoke,  while  her  pretty  lips  were  distended  in  a 
yawn,  and  the  spark  of  a  cigarette  glowed  in  her  finger 
tips. 

"  And  I  am  another ! "  Hampstead  muttered,  with  a 
sneer  that  was  aimed  inward. 

Seven  minutes  later,  Lygia  walked  out  of  her  dressing 
room  minus  the  cigarette  and  looking  again  that  angel 
vision,  but  Hampstead  knew  better  now.  He  viewed  her 
at  first  critically  and  then  reflectively;  but  was  presently 
startled  at  the  gist  of  his  reflections,  which  was  a  sort  of 
self-congratulation  because  this  creature  that  he  was 
about  to  take  in  his  arms  was  not  an  angel,  but  that  more 
alluring,  less  elusive  thing,  a  woman. 

Two  more  minutes  and  the  pair  of  stage  hands  were 
stretched  stomach-wise  upon  the  floor  ready  to  swing 


ADVENT  AND  ADVENTURE  53 

open  the  wings  of  the  gate  at  the  cue  from  St.  Peter,  and 
Lygia  was  lying  once  more  in  John's  arms.  In  the  in 
stant  of  waiting  before  the  curtain  rose,  he  had  time  to 
notice  how  contentedly  and  trustfully  she  appeared  to 
nestle  there.  Her  breathing  was  like  his  at  first,  easy 
and  natural;  but  gradually,  as  the  moment  of  suspense 
lengthened  and  the  instant  of  action  drew  near,  the  rhyth 
mic  pulse  of  both  bosoms  accelerated,  as  if,  heart  on  heart, 
their  souls  beat  in  unison.  John  was  noticing,  too,  how 
soft  Marien's  body  was  where  the  armor  did  not  extend, 
how  deliciously  warm  it  was,  indeed  how  something  like 
an  ethereal  heat  radiated  from  it  and  filled  all  his  veins 
with  a  strange,  electric,  impulsive  wistfulness.  What  was 
that  giddy  perfume? 

Involuntarily  he  drew  her  closer,  with  a  gentle,  steady 
pressure.  At  this  she  raised  her  eyelids  and  gazed  at 
him  for  a  moment,  contemplatively  first  and  then  pas 
sively  curious,  after  which  she  lowered  the  lids  again, 
while  her  lips  half  parted  in  a  voiceless  sigh. 

So  far  as  Hampstead  was  concerned,  illusion  had  gone. 
He  knew  that  he  was  just  a  man.  So  far  as  Miss  Dounay 
was  concerned,  he  suspected  that  she  was  just  a  woman. 
But  devotion  remained.  John  did  not  relax  his  hold. 
Instead  there  was  a  momentary  tightening  of  his  arms. 

"Let  'er  go,"  called  the  low,  tense  voice  of  Mowrey; 
and  with  a  rustling  sound  the  great  curtain  slipped  slowly 
upward. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE   RATE    CLERK 

THE  week  went  by  like  a  shot.  On  Sunday  night  the 
glory  that  was  a  very  stagy  Rome  burned  down  for  the 
last  time  beneath  the  gridiron  of  the  old  Burbank  Theater. 
On  Monday  morning  no  odor  of  grease  paint  and  no 
noxious  smell  of  stewing  glue,  which  proclaims  the  scene 
painter  at  his  work,  was  in  the  nostrils  of  John.  Instead, 
the  clack  of  typewriters,  the  tinkle  of  telephone  bells,  the 
droning  voices  of  dictators,  and  the  shuffling  feet  of  office 
boys  filled  his  ears. 

As  if  to  completely  re-merge  the  man  in  his  environ 
ment,  Robert  Mitchell  came  walking  in,  tossed  a  bundle 
of  papers  upon  the  desk,  fixed  the  rate  clerk  with  a  shaft 
of  his  blue  eye,  and  commanded  drily: 

"  Ursus !  Make  a  set  of  tariffs  embracing  our  new 
lines  to  correspond  with  the  commodity  tariffs  of  the  San 
Francisco  and  El  Paso/7 

John  colored  slightly  at  the  thrust  of  that  name  Ursus, 
but  looked  Mr.  Mitchell  fairly  and  meekly  in  the  eye  and 
answered : 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Have  them  effective  July  ist,"  concluded  the  Gen 
eral  Freight  Agent,  as  he  turned  away. 

Burman,  the  lordly  through  rate  clerk,  lowered  his  sleek 
face  behind  his  books  and  snickered.  John  shot  a  scowl 
at  Burman  and  then  for  a  few  minutes  hunched  his  shoul 
ders  over  the  documents  in  the  case. 

The  California  Consolidated  was  being  consolidated 


THE  RATE  CLERK  55 

some  more.  Two  more  roads  in  the  big  system  had  just 
been  pitchforked  into  the  jurisdiction  of  Robert  Mitchell, 
adding  twelve  hundred  additional  miles  to  his  responsi 
bility  and  pushing  him  several  swift  rounds  up  the  ladder 
of  promotion. 

These  additions  made  the  California  Consolidated  com 
petitive  with  the  San  Francisco  and  El  Paso  lines  at 
hundreds  of  new  stations.  John's  job  was  to  consolidate 
the  freight  tariffs  of  the  three  lines  and  make  sure  that 
they  equalized  the  rates  of  the  competitor  at  competing 
stations.  It  was  an  enormous  task,  and  the  General 
Freight  Agent  had  breezily  commanded  it  to  be  done  in 
ten  weeks.  That  was  why  Burman  snickered.  It  was 
also  why  Hampstead  scowled. 

Now  a  freight  tariff  starts  youthfully  out  to  be  the 
most  scientific  thing  in  the  world,  but  it  ends  by  being 
the  most  utterly  unscientific  document  that  ever  was  put 
together.  The  longer  a  tariff  lives,  the  more  depraved 
it  becomes.  The  S.  F.  &  E.  P.  tariffs  were  very  old, 
but  not,  therefore,  honorable. 

John  turned  to  the  shelf  that  contained  them  and 
scowled  again,  a  double  scowl,  as  black  as  his  blond 
Viking  brows  could  manage.  These  were  to  be  his 
models.  They  were  yellow  —  a  disagreeable  color  to 
begin  with, —  each  a  half  inch  thick  and  larger  than  a  let 
ter  page, —  abortions,  every  one  of  them !  They  were  pea- 
vine  growths  like  the  monster  system  which  issued  them, 
cumbered  with  the  adjustments  and  easements  of  the 
years. 

The  flour  tariff!  The  hay  tariff!  The  grain  tariff? 
John  took  these  in  his  hands  one  by  one  and  glowered 
at  them.  The  mistakes,  the  inconsistencies,  the  clumsi 
ness  of  thirty  sprawling  years  were  in  them.  And  he 
was  asked  to  duplicate  these  confusions  on  his  own  sys 
tem. 


56  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

Should  he  do  it  ?  No ;  be  hanged  if  he  would !  He  felt 
big  and  self-important  as  he  slammed  the  first  of  them 
face  down  upon  his  desk  and  each  thereafter  in  succes 
sion  upon  its  fellow,  until  the  pile  toppled  over,  after 
which,  leaving  the  reckless  heap  behind  him,  while  Bur- 
man  snickered  again,  John  stamped  out  of  the  room. 

"  These  S.  F.  &  E.  P.  tariffs  are  so  old  they've  got 
whiskers  on  'em,"  he  began  to  say  to  Mr.  Mitchell,  "  and 
hairs !  And  the  hair  has  never  been  cut  nor  even  combed. 
They  have  been  tagged  and  fattened  and  trimmed  and 
sliced  and  slewed  round  till  the  tariff  is  issued  just  to  keep 
up  the  basis  and  the  tradition,  and  then  you  look  in  some 
thing  else, —  an  amendment,  or  a  special,  or  a  '  private 
special ',  or  sometimes  the  carbon  copy  of  a  letter, —  to  find 
out  what  the  rate  actually  is.  Sometimes  when  I  call 
their  office  up  on  the  'phone  to  get  a  rate,  it  takes  'em 
twenty-four  hours  to  answer,  and  maybe  a  week  later 
they  notify  me  the  answer  was  wrong.  Our  slate  is 
clean;  why  not  simmer  the  figures  down  to  what  is  the 
actual  basis  instead  of  the  assumed  one,  and  publish  the 
rates  as  we  intend  to  charge  'em,  and  as  we  know  they 
do  charge  'em  ?  " 

Mitchell  had  listened  with  surprise  at  first  to  this  rash 
proposal.  It  sounded  youthful  and  impetuous.  But  it 
also  sounded  sensible.  Mitchell  hated  red  tape,  and  he 
knew  that  John's  idea  was  the  right  one;  but  tradition 
was  god  on  the  S.  F.  &  E.  P.  They  would  fight  the  in 
novation  and  fight  it  hard ;  they  might  win,  too,  and  Mr. 
Mitchell  had  no  stomach  for  tilting  at  windmills.  How 
ever,  it  might  be  a  good  thing  for  John,  this  fight ;  might 
make  him  forget  that  foolish  stage  ambition  of  his ;  and 
if  he  won,  might  crown  him  so  lustrously  that  of  itself 
it  would  save  him  to  a  future  already  assuredly  brilliant 
in  the  railroad  business. 

"  Do  you  think  you  could  whip  it  out  with  'em  before 


THE  RATE  CLERK  57 

their  faces,  John,  when  the  scrap  comes?"  Mr.  Mitchell 
asked  tentatively,  but  also  by  way  of  further  firing  the 
soul  of  the  fighter. 

"  I  believe  I  could,"  replied  John  ardently. 

"  Then  go  to  it,"  said  Mr.  Mitchell  tersely. 

And  John  went  to  it. 

But  there  was  another  man  who  had  been  shocked  by 
John's  theatrical  venture,  and  that  was  the  pastor  of  the 
First  Church,  who  had  his  virtues,  much  as  other  men. 
His  face  was  round  and  like  his  figure,  full  of  fatness. 
He  was  a  merry  soul  and  loved  a  joke.  He  had  a  heart 
as  tender  as  his  sense  of  humor  was  keen. 

But  beside  his  virtues,  this  man  of  God  had  also  his 
convictions.  His  pulpit  was  no  wash-wallowing  craft. 
He  steered  her  straight.  To  Heaven  with  Scylla!  To 
Gehenna  with  Charybdis !  Indeed,  if  there  was  one  man 
in  all  Los  Angeles  who  knew  where  he  was  going  and  all 
the  rest  of  the  world  too,  it  was  this  same  Charles  Thomp 
son  Campbell,  pastor  of  the  aforesaid  grand  old  First 
Church.  Doctor  Campbell's  hair  and  eyes  were  black. 
His  voice  had  the  ultimate  roar  in  it.  When  he  stood 
up,  locks  flying,  perspiration  streaming,  and  thumped  his 
pulpit  with  that  fat  doubled  fist,  the  palm  of  which  had 
been  moulded  in  youth  upon  the  handle  of  a  plow,  every 
nook  and  cranny  of  the  auditorium  echoed  with  the  force 
of  his  utterance.  But  Doctor  Campbell's  convictions, 
like  most  people's,  were  only  in  part  based  upon  knowl 
edge. 

Some  things  in  particular  he  wot  not  of  yet  scorned. 
One  was  the  modern  novel.  Another  was  the  stage! 
Shakespeare,  Doctor  Campbell  admitted  largely,  had  shed 
some  sheen  upon  the  stage  and  more  upon  literature;  but 
he  never  quoted  Shakespeare.  One  could  almost  doubt 
if  he  had  read  him,  and  when  Shakespeare  came  to  town, 
he  never  went  to  see  him. 


58  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

On  the  morning,  therefore,  when  the  good  Doctor 
Campbell  read  in  the  papers  that  the  youngest  of  his 
deacons  had  the  night  before  made  his  debut  as  Ursus 
in  Quo  Vadis,  he  was  not  only  pained  but  moved  to  self- 
reproach.  Grief  enveloped  him.  It  thrust  the  sharp 
cleft  of  a  frown  into  his  smooth  brow.  It  thrust  his  chin 
down  upon  his  bosom  and  caused  him  to  heave  a  tu 
multuous  sigh.  He  bowed  his  head  beside  his  study 
table  and  then  and  there  put  up  an  earnest  petition  for 
the  soul  of  John  Hampstead.  It  was  a  sincere  and  nat 
ural  prayer,  because  Doctor  Campbell  was  a  sincere  man 
and  believed  in  the  efficacy  of  prayer. 

Besides,  he  loved  John  Hampstead.  The  young  man's 
impending  fate  stirred  the  minister  deeply  and  caused 
him  to  reproach  himself.  In  this  mood,  he  dug  out  all 
his  sermons  on  the  stage,  nine  years  of  annual  sermons 
on  the  influence  of  the  drama,  and  read  them  sketchily 
and  with  disappointment.  Paugh !  Piffle !  How  weak 
and  ineffective  they  seemed.  He  delved  into  his  concord 
ance  for  a  text  and  found  one.  Then  he  drove  his  pen 
deep  into  his  inkwell  and  began  to  write. 

The  following  Sunday  night  Doctor  Campbell's  red, 
excited  features  were  seen  dimly  through  dun,  sulphurous 
clouds  of  brimstone  and  fire;  but  to  the  preacher's  dis 
may,  John  Hampstead  was  not  present  for  fumigation. 
The  reverend  gentleman,  in  his  unthinking  goodness,  had 
quite  overlooked  the  fact  that  the  play  in  which  John  was 
performing  concluded  on  Sunday  night  instead  of  Satur 
day  night;  and  so  while  his  pastor  was  hurling  his  fiery^ 
diatribes  at  that  conspicuously  assailable  institution,  the 
stage,  Deacon  Hampstead  was  blissfully  bearing  Marien 
Dounay  about  in  his  arms. 

But  the  next  morning  John  read  the  sermon  published 
in  the  newspaper.  He  had  already  noted  that  the  more 
doubtful  the  sermon,  the  more  likely  it  is  to  get  into  the 


THE  RATE  CLERK  59 

headlines,  because  from  the  editor's  standpoint  it  thus 
becomes  news,  and  late  Sunday  night,  which  is  the  scarcest 
hour  of  the  whole  week  for  news,  there  is  more  joy  in 
the  "  city  room  "  over  one  sermon  that  breathes  the  fiery 
spirit  of  sensation  than  over  ninety  and  nine  which  need 
no  hell  and  damnation  in  which  to  express  the  tender 
gospel  of  Jesus.  John  read  it  with  a  sense  of  wrath,  of 
outrage,  and  of  humiliation.  That  night  he  launched 
himself  at  the  study  door  of  his  pastor. 

"  I  was  very  sorry  you  did  not  hear  my  sermon  last 
night,"  began  Doctor  Campbell  blandly,  sensing  the  ad 
vantage  of  striking  first. 

"  Brother  Campbell,  I  have  come  to  arraign  you  for 
that  sermon,"  retorted  John,  with  an  immediate  outburst 
of  feeling.  "  I  say  that  you  spoke  what  you  did  not 
know.  I  say,"  and  his  voice  almost  broke  with  the  weight 
of  its  own  earnestness,  "  I  say  that  you  bore  false  wit 
ness!" 

The  amazed  minister's  mouth  opened,  but  John  re 
pressed  his  utterance  with  a  gesture. 

"  You  will  say  you  preached  your  convictions.  I  say 
you  preached  your  prejudice,  your  ignorance.  I  say  you 
bore  false  witness  against  struggling  women,  against  as 
piring  men,  against  those  of  whose  bitter  battlings  you 
know  nothing." 

The  Reverend  Charles  Thompson  Campbell  leaned  back 
aghast.  No  man  had  ever  presumed  to  talk  to  him  like 
this,  no  man  of  twice  his  years  and  spiritual  attainments; 
yet  here  was  this  stripling  not  only  talking  to  him  like 
this,  but  with  a  fervor  of  unction  in  his  utterance  that 
made  his  upbraiding  sound  half  inspired. 

"  You  are  condemning  the  stage  as  an  institution," 
went  on  John  scornfully.  "  You  might  as  well  condemn 
the  printing  press  as  an  institution.  You  discriminate 
with  regard  to  newspapers  and  books.  Do  the  same  with 


6o  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

the  stage.  Taboo  the  corrupt  play  and  teach  your  people 
to  avoid  it.  Support  the  good  and  teach  the  managers 
that  you  will.  Taboo  the  notorious  actor  or  actress  if 
you  wish.  Give  the  rest  of  them  the  benefit  of  the  doubt, 
as  you  do  in  your  personal  contact  with  all  humanity. 
Oh,  Doctor  Campbell,  you  are  so  charitable  in  your  per 
sonal  relations  with  men  and  so  uncharitable  in  much  of 
your  preaching !  " 

This  one  exclamatory  sentence  had  in  it  enough  of 
affectionate  regard  to  enable  the  minister  to  contain  him 
self  a  little  longer,  under  the  impassioned  tide  which  now 
flowed  again. 

"The  stage?  The  stage  as  an  institution?"  John 
appeared  to  pause  and  wind  himself  up.  "  Why,  listen ! 
The  stage  function  is  a  godlike  function.  When  God 
created  man  out  of  the  dust  of  the  ground  and  breathed 
into  him  the  breath  of  life  he  planted  in  man's  breast 
also  the  instinct  to  create.  That  instinct  is  the  founda 
tion  of  all  art.  Man  has  always  exhibited  this  passion 
to  create  something  in  his  own  image.  It  might  be  a  rude 
drawing  on  a  rock,  or  only  a  manikin  sculptured  in  mud 
and  set  in  the  sun  to  dry;  or  it  might  be  a  marble  of 
Phidias,  with  the  form,  the  strength,  the  spirit  of  life 
upon  it.  The  painter  can  go  farther.  He  gets  the  color 
and  the  very  visage  of  thought  and  even  of  emotion.  Yet 
each  falls  short.  There  is  no  God  to  breathe  into  their 
creations  the  breath  of  life." 

The  minister  leaned  back  a  little  as  if  to  put  his  under 
standing  more  at  poise. 

"  But,"  continued  Hampstead,  "  the  playwright  and  the 
actor  can  go  farther.  They  breathe  into  their  creations 
that  very  breath  of  God  himself,  which  he  breathed  into 
man.  They  make  a  character  real  because  he  is  a  living 
man.  They  put  him  in  the  company  of  other  men  and 
women  who  are  as  real  for  the  same  reason;  they  toss 


THE  RATE  CLERK  61 

them  all  into  the  sea  of  life  together;  the  winds  of  life 
blow  upon  them.  Hate  and  love,  virtue  and  vice,  hope 
and  despair,  weakness  and  strength,  birth  and  death,  work 
their  will  upon  them/' 

"  That  is  very  beautiful,  John,"  said  Doctor  Campbell, 
"  very  beautiful." 

The  tribute  was  sincere,  but  John  was  not  to  be  checked 
even  by  a  compliment. 

"  The  stage  creates  and  recreates,"  he  rushed  on.  "  It 
can  raise  the  dead.  It  makes  men  and  women  live  again 
—  Julius  Caesar  and  Cleopatra,  Napoleon  and  Dolly 
Madison.  It  seizes  whole  segments  out  of  the  circles  of 
past  history  and  sets  them  down  in  the  midst  of  to-day, 
with  the  glow  of  life  and  the  sheen  of  reality  over  all,  so 
that  for  an  afternoon  or  a  night  we  live  in  another  con 
tinent  or  another  age.  We  see  the  life,  the  customs,  the 
petty  quarrels,  the  sublimer  passions,  the  very  pulse- 
beats  of  men  of  other  circumstances  and  other  genera 
tions  than  our  own,  so  that  when  we  come  out  of  the 
theater  into  the  times  of  to-day,  we  have  actually  to 
wake  ourselves  up  and  ask :  Which  is  real,  and  which  is 
art?" 

Doctor  Campbell  leaned  forward  now.  His  mouth 
was  round,  his  eyes  were  widely  open. 

"  It  is  that  which  gives  the  stage  its  dignity  and  power," 
concluded  John.  "  It  is  the  highest  expression  of  man's 
instinct  to  create  a  new  life  in  a  more  ideal  Eden  than 
that  in  which  he  finds  himself.  When  you  condemn  the 
stage  you  condemn  the  creative  instinct,  and,"  exhorted 
John,  with  the  sudden  sternness  of  a  hairy  prophet  on 
his  desert  rock,  "  you  had  better  pause  to  think  if  you  do 
not  condemn  Him  who  planted  that  instinct  in  the  human 
breast." 

Hampstead  had  now  finished ;  but  the  minister  was  in 
no  hurry  to  speak.  He  felt  the  spell  of  the  picture  which 


62  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

had  been  painted,  but  he  felt  still  more  the  spell  of  the 
young  man's  ardent  enthusiasm. 

;<  You  must  have  thought  that  out  very  carefully, 
John,"  he  said. 

"  Brother  Campbell !  "  answered  John  fervently,  "  I 
have  done  more  than  think  it  out.  I  have  felt  it  out.  I 
propose  to  live  it  out !  " 

But  Doctor  Campbell  had  kept  his  head  amid  this  swirl 
of  words,  and  his  return  was  quietly  forceful. 

"  The  stage  of  to-day,"  he  began,  "  as  I  know  it  from 
the  newspapers  and  the  billboards,  never  seemed  so  vul 
gar  and  damnable  as  it  does  now  after  your  glorious 
idealization  of  it.  I,  as  a  preacher  of  righteousness, 
must  judge  of  such  an  institution  externally,  by  its  ef 
fects.  I  have  weighed  the  stage  in  the  balance,  John,  and 
I  have  found  it  wanting." 

This  time  there  was  something  in  the  minister's  calm 
tone,  in  the  cool  detachment  of  his  point  of  view,  that 
held  John  silent. 

"  Isn't  it  possible,"  the  minister  continued,  in  a  kind 
of  sweet  reasonableness,  "  that  there  is  something  in 
sidiously  demoralizing  or  infectious  about  it  ?  Take  your 
own  experience,  John.  You  are  a  Christian  man.  You 
have  been  soaking  yourself  in  the  atmosphere  of  the  stage 
for  a  couple  of  weeks.  Examine  your  soul  now,  and 
answer  me  if  you  are  as  fine,  as  pure  a  man  as  you  were 
before  you  went  there.  Are  you  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course  I  am,"  ejaculated  Hampstead  im 
pulsively. 

"  Think,"  commanded  the  minister,  in  low,  compelling 
tones;  for  having  controlled  his  emotions  the  better,  he 
was  just  now  the  stronger  of  the  two.  "Are  you  — 
John?" 

Hampstead  opened  his  mouth  eagerly,  but  the  minister's 
repressing  gesture  would  not  let  him  speak.  The  young 


THE  RATE  CLERK  63 

man  was  literally  compelled  to  think,  to  question  his  own 
soul  for  a  moment,  and  as  he  searched,  a  telltale  flush 
came  upon  his  cheek,  and  then  his  glance  fell.  There  was 
an  embarrassing  moment  of  silence,  during  which  this 
flush  of  mortification  deepened  perceptibly. 

The  minister  was  a  wise  man.  He  read  the  sign  and 
asked  no  questions.  He  upbraided  nothing,  cackled  no 
exultant,  "  I  told  you  so." 

"  Let  us  pray,  Brother  John,"  he  proposed  after  the 
interval,  and  knelt  by  his  chair  with  a  hand  upon  Hamp- 
stead's  shoulder.  The  prayer  was  short. 

"  Oh,  Lord,"  the  man  of  God  petitioned,  "  help  us  to 
know  where  the  right  stops  and  the  wrong  begins.  Keep 
us  back  from  the  sin  of  presumption.  Give  thy  servants 
wisdom  to  serve  thy  cause  well  and  work  no  ill  to  it  by 
over-zeal  or  over-confidence.  Amen !  " 

Doctor  Campbell  might  have  been  praying  for  himself. 
But  John  knew  that  this  was  only  a  part  of  his  tact. 

As  the  two  men  rose,  John  felt  a  sudden  impulse  to 
defend  the  stage  from  himself. 

"  It  was  my  own  fault,"  he  urged ;  "  the  fault  of  my 
own  weakness  in  unaccustomed  surroundings.  It  was 
not  the  fault  of  the  surroundings  themselves,  nor  of  any 
other  person.  Besides,  it  was  nothing  very  grave." 

"  Deterioration  of  character  is  always  grave,"  said  the 
Reverend  Charles  Thompson  Campbell  as  he  walked  to 
the  door  with  his  caller,  and  the  minister's  tone  intimated 
his  conviction  that  this  particular  deterioration  had  been 
very  grave  indeed. 


CHAPTER  VI 

ON   TWO   FRONTS 

THERE  was  high  commotion  in  a  big  front  office  in 
the  top  floor  of  a  tall,  gray  building  that  stood  in  the 
days  before  the  fire  on  the  corner  of  Kearney  and  Market 
streets  in  the  city  of  San  Francisco.  This  gray  struc 
ture  housed  the  general  offices  of  the  San  Francisco  and 
El  Paso  Railroad  Company,  and  that  big  front  office  con 
tained  the  desk  of  the  Freight  Traffic  Manager.  Before 
this  desk  sat  a  man  with  a  domed  brow  and  the  beak  of 
an  eagle,  hair  gray,  eyes  piercing,  complexion  colorless, 
and  a  mouth  that  closed  so  tightly  it  was  discernible  only 
as  a  crescent-shaped  pucker  above  his  spike-like  chin. 
His  mouth  at  the  moment  was  not  a  pucker;  it  was  a 
geyser.  The  name  of  this  man  was  William  N.  Scofield, 
and  he  was  obviously  in  a  rage.  He  had  grown  up  with 
the  S.  F.  &  E.  P.,  his  brain  expanding  as  it  expanded,  his 
power  rising  as  it  had  risen.  Long  ago,  when  the  one 
lone  clerk  in  its  little  rate  department,  he  had  made  with 
his.  own  hands  the  first  of  those  yellow  commodity  tariffs 
that  John  Hampstead  had  scorned  with  objurgations. 
Now  Scofield  held  in  the  hand  which  trembled  with  his 
anger  the  first  of  that  upstart's  own  contributions  to  the 
science  of  tariff  making  —  not  yellow,  but  white,  in  token 
of  the  clarity  it  was  meant  to  introduce. 

"How  did  they  make  it?  this  —  this  botch!"  he  ex 
ploded,  repeating  his  interrogation  with  other  embellish 
ing  phrases  not  properly  reproducible  and  then  slamming 
the  offending  white  sheets  down  hard  upon  his  desk, — 
much  harder  than  John  had  slammed  the  yellow  ones, — 


ON  TWO  FRONTS  65 

this  impudent,  white-livered  thing  that  was  an  assault 
upon  the  customs  he,  Scofield,  had  instituted  and  time 
itself  had  honored! 

"  Telegram !  "  he  barked  to  his  stenographer.  "  Robert 
Mitchell,  Los  Angeles.  Insist  immediate  withdrawal 
your  entire  line  of  commodity  tariffs,  series  J.  Basis 
carried  in  our  own  tariffs  is  only  one  we  will  recognize." 

Mitchell  answered: 

"  Decline  to  withdraw ;  our  tariffs  issued  on  actual 
basis  on  which  charges  are  assessed." 

The  fight  was  on. 

Arming  himself  cap-a-pie  with  tariffs,  amendments, 
letters,  and  memoranda,  Mitchell  two  days  later  followed 
his  telegram  to  San  Francisco.  Most  of  his  resources, 
however,  were  packed  behind  the  wide,  blond  brow  of 
John  Hampstead,  who  accompanied  his  chief  and  was 
more  eager  for  the  fray  than  Mitchell.  The  battle  began 
on  Monday  morning  about  ten  of  the  clock,  and  was  not 
finished  with  the  day.  The  field  of  action  was  a  room 
of  this  same  gray  building,  where  Howison,  General 
Freight  Agent  of  the  S.  F.  &  E.  P.,  sat  at  the  end  of  a 
long  table,  flanked  right  and  left  by  assistant  general 
freight  agents,  rate  clerks,  and  even  general  and  district 
freight  agents  called  in  from  the  field,  all  to  convince 
Robert  Mitchell  and  his  lone  rate  clerk  sitting  at  the  other 
end  of  the  table  that  their  new  tariff  was  a  hodgepodge, 
without  practical  basis  or  the  show  of  reason  to  support 
it.  Scofield  himself  did  not  take  a  seat  in  the  battle  line, 
but  looked  in  occasionally,  either  to  walk  about  nervously 
or  sit  just  back  of  Howison's  shoulder. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day,  the  enemy  Traffic 
Manager  appeared  to  watch  Hampstead  intently  for  half 
an  hour.  Again  and  again  the  keen  old  fighter  saw  his 
allied  forces  attack,  but  invariably  this  self-confident, 
smiling  young  man  with  a  ready  citation,  the  upflashing; 


66  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

of  a  yellow  "  special ",  the  digging  out  of  a  letter  or  a 
telegram  from  his  file,  or  occasionally  even  of  an  old 
freight  bill  issued  by  the  S.  F.  &  E.  P.  showing  exactly 
what  rate  had  been  assessed,  triumphantly  repelled  the 
assaults,  until  reverses  began  to  be  the  order  of  the  day. 

"  It  strikes  me,"  Scofield  remarked  sarcastically,  "  that 
this  young  man  has  got  us  all  pretty  well  buffaloed.  The 
trouble  is,  Howison,"  he  glowered,  "  that  your  Tariff 
Department  needs  cleaning  out.  You've  got  a  lot  of  old 
mush  heads  in  there." 

With  this  warning  shot  into  his  own  ranks,  Scofield 
arose,  went  discontentedly  out,  and  never  once  came  back. 
Keener  than  any  of  his  staff,  he  had  already  discerned 
that  defeat  was  advancing  down  the  road. 

But  the  battle  of  the  tariffs  raged  on  throughout  the 
week,  and  it  was  not  until  late  on  Saturday  afternoon 
that  John,  standing  in  one  room  of  the  suite  in  the  Palace 
Hotel  charged  to  the  name  of  Robert  Mitchell,  flung  the 
pile  of  papers  from  his  arms  into  the  bottom  of  a  suitcase 
with  a  swish  and  solid  thud  of  satisfaction.  Victory 
from  first  to  last  had  perched  upon  his  tawny  head.  He 
had  met  good  men  and  beaten  them;  and  he  had  a  right 
to  the  wave  of  exultation  that  surged  for  a  moment 
dizzily  through  his  brain. 

Mr.  Mitchell,  too,  was  feeling  exultant  and  proud  be 
yond  words,  as  he  stood  in  the  door  of  John's  room. 
His  hands  were  deep  in  his  pockets ;  his  large  black  derby 
hat  was  pushed  far  back  from  his  bulging  brow.  On  his 
great  landscape  of  a  countenance  was  an  oddly  significant 
expression. 

"  Well,  Jack,"  he  began,  after  an  interval  of  silence, 
"  what  about  the  stage  ?  " 

John  started  like  a  man  surprised  in  a  guilty  act,  al 
though  he  had  known  for  months  that  this  was  a  ques 
tion  Mr.  Mitchell  might  ask  at  any  moment;  but  the 


ON  TWO  FRONTS  67 

decision  involved  seemed  now  so  big  that  from  day  to 
day  he  had  hoped  the  inevitable  might  be  postponed. 

"  I  shall  be  naming  a  new  chief  clerk  in  a  couple  of 
weeks,  now  that  Heitmuller  is  to  become  General  Agent," 
Mr.  Mitchell  went  on  half -musingly,  and  as  if  to  forestall 
a  hasty  reply  to  the  question  he  had  asked.  "  The  new 
man  will  be  in  line  to  be  appointed  Assistant  General 
Freight  Agent  very  soon,  on  account  of  the  consolida 
tions." 

For  a  moment  John  saw  himself  as  Chief  Clerk,  sitting 
in  the  big  swivel  chair  at  the  high,  roll-top  desk,  with  all 
the  strings  of  the  business  he  knew  so  well  how  to  pull 
lying  on  the  table  before  him;  with  clerks,  stenographers, 
men  from  other  departments  and  that  important  part  of 
the  shipping  public  which  carried  its  business  to  the  gen 
eral  freight  office,  all  running  to  him. 

And  from  there  it  was  only  a  short,  easy  step  to  the 
position  of  Assistant  General  Freight  Agent. 

Only  the  man  who  has  toiled  far  down  in  the  ranks  of 
a  railroad  organization  doing  routine  work  at  the  same 
old  desk  in  the  same  old  way  for  half  a  score  of  years 
can  know  on  what  a  dizzy  height  sits  the  Chief  Clerk,  or 
how  far  beyond  that  swings  the  lofty  title  of  Assistant 
General  Freight  Agent. 

"  Your  advancement  would  be  very  rapid,"  suggested 
Mr.  Mitchell,  flicking  his  flies  skilfully  upon  the  whirling 
eddies  of  the  young  man's  thought. 

John  had  achieved  enough  and  glimpsed  enough  to  see 
that  Mitchell  was  right.  Advancement  would  be  rapid. 
Mitchell  would  soon  go  up  the  line  himself;  he  could 
follow  him.  General  Freight  Agent,  Assistant  Traffic 
Manager,  Traffic  Manager,  Vice-president  in  charge  of 
traffic  —  President !  with  twelve  thousand  miles  of  shin 
ing  steel  flowing  from  his  hand,  which  he  might  swing 
and  whirl  and  crack  like  a  whip!  The  prospect  was 


68  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

dazzling  in  the  extreme,  and  yet  it  was  only  for  a  mo 
ment  that  the  picture  kindled.  In  the  next  it  was  dead 
and  sparkless  as  burned-out  fireworks. 

"  You  have  a  strong  vein  of  traffic  in  your  blood,"  the 
General  Freight  Agent  began  adroitly,  but  John  broke  in 
upon  him. 

"  Mr.  Mitchell,"  he  said,  and  his  utterance  was  grave, 
"  I  am  sorry  to  disappoint  you,  but  it  comes  too  late.  A 
year  ago  such  a  hint  would  have  thrown  me  into  ecstasies. 
To-day  it  leaves  me  cold.  I  have  had  another  vision." 

The  face  of  Mitchell  shaded  from  seriousness  almost 
to  sadness,  but  he  was  too  wise  to  increase  by  argument 
an  ardor  about  which,  to  the  railroad  man,  there  was 
something  not  easy  to  be  understood,  something,  indeed, 
almost  fanatical.  Instead  Mitchell  asked  with  sober,  in 
terested  friendliness: 

"  What  is  your  plan,  John?  " 

"  To  resign  July  first,"  John  answered,  for  the  first 
time  definitely  crossing  the  bridge,  "  to  come  to  San 
Francisco  and  seek  an  engagement  with  some  of  the 
stock  companies  playing  permanently  here,  even  though 
I  begin  the  search  for  an  opening  without  money  enough 
to  last  more  than  a  week  or  two." 

"Without  money!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Mitchell,  in  sur 
prise. 

"  Yes,"  confessed  Hampstead,  flushing  a  little.  "  My 
salary  was  not  very  munificent,  you  know,  and  I  have 
usually  contrived  to  get  rid  of  it,  frequently  before  I  got 
the  pay  check  in  my  hands." 

Mr.  Mitchell's  small,  prudent  eyes  looked  disfavor  at  a 
spendthrift. 

"  However,"  he  suggested,  "  you  have  only  yourself  to 
think  of." 

"  That's  another  point  against  me,"  confessed  Hamp 
stead.  "  I  have  some  one  else  to  look  out  for.  My 


ON  TWO  FRONTS  69 

brother-in-law  is  an  artist,  you  know,  and  he  has  not  been 
very  successful  yet,  so  that  I  hold  myself  ready  to  help 
with  my  sister  and  the  children  if  it  should  ever  become 
necessary." 

"  That's  a  handicap,"  declared  Mitchell  flatly. 

"I  won't  admit  it,"  said  John  loyally.  "You  don't 
know  those  children.  Tayna's  the  girl,  nearly  twelve 
now,  a  beauty  if  her  nose  is  pugged.  Such  hair  and  eyes, 
and  such  a  heart!  Dick's  the  boy,  past  ten.  He's  had 
asthma  always,  and  is  about  a  thousand  years  old,  some 
ways.  But  they  — " 

Hampstead  gulped  queerly. 

"  Those  two  children,"  he  plunged  on,  "  are  dearer  to 
me  than  anything  in  the  whole  wide  world.  You 
know,"  and  his  tone  became  still  more  confidential,  while 
his  eyes  grew  moist,  "  it  would  only  be  something  that 
happened  to  them  that  would  keep  me  from  going  on  with 
my  stage  career." 

Mitchell's  respect  for  John  was  changing  oddly  to  a 
fatherly  feeling.  He  felt  that  he  was  getting  acquainted 
with  his  clerk  for  the  first  time.  He  resolved  that  he 
would  not  tempt  the  boy,  and  that  if  it  became  necessary, 
he  would  help  him.  However,  before  he  could  express 
this  resolve,  if  he  had  intended  to  express  it,  the  telephone 
rang. 

Hampstead  answered  it,  stammered,  faltered,  replied : 
"  I  will  see,  sir,  and  call  you  in  five  minutes,"  hung  up 
the  'phone  and  turned  to  confront  Mitchell,  with  a  look 
almost  of  fright  upon  his  face. 

"  It's  William  N.  Scofield,"  he  exclaimed.  "  He  wants 
me  to  take  dinner  with  him  at  his  club  to-night." 

A  disbelieving  smile  appeared  for  a  moment  on  the 
wide  lips  of  Mitchell;  then  understanding  broke,  and  his 
smile  was  swallowed  up  in  a  hearty  laugh. 

"  He  wants  to  offer  you  a  position,"  Mitchell  said, 


70  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

when  his  exultant  cachinnations  had  ceased.  "  Look  out 
that  he  doesn't  win  you.  Scofield  is  a  very  persuasive 
man.  He  nearly  got  me  once.  Besides,  he  has  more  to 
offer  you  than  I  have." 

Hampstead  pressed  his  hand  to  his  brow.  Under  his 
tawny  thatch  ideas  were  in  a  whirl. 

"  What  shall  I  do?  "  he  asked  rather  helplessly. 

"  Stay  over,"  commanded  Mitchell  unhesitatingly. 
"  Ring  up  and  tell  him  you'll  be  there." 

"  But  there's  no  use,  anyway,"  replied  John  suddenly, 
getting  back  to  the  main  point.  "  My  mind's  made  up." 

"  No  man's  mind  is  made  up  when  he's  going  to  take 
dinner  on  the  proposition  with  William  N.  Scofield,"  an 
swered  Mitchell  oracularly. 

"And  you?"  asked  Hampstead,  suddenly  aware  how 
good  a  man  at  heart  was  Robert  Mitchell,  and  quite  un 
aware  that  he  had  seized  that  gentleman's  pudgy  right 
hand  and  was  wringing  it  in  a  manner  most  embarrassing 
to  Mitchell  himself.  "You—" 

But  the  telephone  was  tingling  impatiently. 

"  Mr.  Scofield  wants  to  know,"  began  a  voice. 

"  Yes,  yes,  I'll  be  happy  to,"  interrupted  John,  not 
knowing  just  what  tone  or  form  one  should  take  in  ex 
pressing  the  necessary  amenities  to  the  secretary  of  a 
great  man. 

"  Very  well.  His  car  will  call  for  you  at  six-thirty," 
responded  the  voice. 

But  before  John  could  pick  up  the  thread  of  his  un 
finished  sentence  to  Mr.  Mitchell,  a  knock  sounded  at  the 
door,  at  first  soft  and  cushioned,  as  if  from  a  gloved 
hand,  then  louder  and  more  determined,  and  repeated 
with  quick  impatience. 

"  Come  in,"  called  Mitchell. 

The  knob  turned,  and  the  door  swung  wide,  leaving  the 
panel  of  white  to  frame  the  picture  of  a  woman.  She 


ON  TWO  FRONTS  71 

was  young,  of  medium  height  and  appealing  roundness, 
clad  from  head  to  foot  in  a  traveling  dress  of  dark  green, 
with  a  small  hat  of  a  shade  to  match,  the  chief  adornment 
of  which  was  a  red  hawk's  feather  slanting  backward  at  a 
jaunty  angle.  A  veil  enveloped  both  hat  brim  and  face 
but  was  not  thick  enough  to  dim  the  sparkle  of  bright 
eyes  or  the  pink  flush  of  dimpled  cheeks,  much  less  to 
conceal  two  rows  of  gleaming  teeth  from  between  which, 
after  a  moment's  pause  for  sensation,  burst  a  ringing 
cadence  of  laughter. 

"  Miss  Bessie !  "  exclaimed  John  excitedly. 

"  The  very  first  guess !  "  declared  that  young  lady,  ad 
vancing  and  yielding  the  doorframe  to  another  figure 
which  filled  it  so  much  more  completely  as  to  sufficiently 
explain  a  more  deliberate  arrival. 

"  Mollie !  "  ejaculated  Mitchell,  who  by  this  time  had 
turned  toward  the  door.  "  What  in  thunder?  " 

But  the  General  Freight  Agent's  lines  of  communica 
tion  were  just  then  temporarily  disconnected  by  an  as 
sault  upon  his  features  conducted  by  Miss  Bessie  in  per 
son.  During  this  interval,  Mrs.  Mitchell  stood  placidly 
surveying  the  room,  and  as  she  took  in  its  air  of  prepara 
tion  for  immediate  departure,  a  tantalizing  smile  spread 
itself  on  her  expansive  features. 

"  Is  this  an  accident  or  a  calamity  ? "  demanded 
Mitchell,  playfully  thrusting  Bessie  aside  and  advancing 
to  greet  his  wife. 

"  Both !  "  declared  that  lady,  submitting  her  lips  with 
more  of  formality  than  enthusiasm,  after  which,  feeling 
that  sufficient  time  had  elapsed  to  make  an  explanation 
of  her  sudden  appearance  not  undignified,  she  proceeded : 

"  Just  one  of  my  whims,  Bob !  Next  week  was  the 
spring  vacation;  no  school,  and  the  poor  child  was  pale 
from  overstudy  and  so  anxious  about  her  examinations 
(Bessie  shot  a  look  at  Hampstead),  that  I  just  made  up 


72  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

my  mind  I'd  bring  her  up  here  and  let  her  get  a  good  bite 
of  fog  and  a  breath  from  the  Golden  Gate." 

"  Fine  idea !  "  declared  Mitchell.  "  Fine !  Now  that 
you've  had  it,"  he  chuckled,  "we'll  start  home.  I'm 
leaving  at  eight." 

1  You  are  not ! "  proclaimed  Mrs.  Mitchell  flatly. 
:e  You  will  stay  right  here  for  at  least  three  days  and  do 
nothing  but  devote  yourself  to  your  child.  And  to  her 
mother!  "  she  subjoined,  as  if  that  were  an  afterthought; 
all  with  a  toss  of  her  chin,  which,  by  way  of  emphasis, 
held  its  advanced  position  for  a  moment  after  the  speech 
was  done. 

"And  the  business  of  the  company?"  Mitchell  sug 
gested,  with  a  solicitous  air. 

"  It  can  wait  on  me,"  averred  Mrs.  Mitchell  decisively, 
taking  a  turn  up  and  down  the  room  and  surveying  once 
more  the  signs  of  confusion  and  of  hasty  packing. 
"  Many's  the  time  I've  waited  on  it.  You  can  stay,  too, 
John,"  she  said,  turning  to  Hampstead.  "  I  want  you 
to  take  Bessie  to  a  lot  of  places  Robert  and  I  have  been 
and  won't  care  to  visit  this  time." 

"  Robert ! "  and  while  her  eyes  turned  toward  the 
windows,  two  of  which  opened  on  a  view  of  Market 
Street,  the  new  commander  began  a  redisposition  of 
forces,  "  I  rather  like  this  suite.  Bessie  and  I  will  take 
the  corner  room.  You  can  take  this  room  and  Mr. 
Hampstead  can  move  across  the  hall,  or  anywhere  else 
they  can  put  him." 

As  an  act  of  possession,  Mrs.  Mitchell  walked  to  the 
dresser,  took  off  her  hat,  stabbed  the  two  pins  into  it  em 
phatically,  and  tossed  it  upon  the  bed,  where  it  bloomed 
like  a  flower-garden  in  the  midst  of  a  desert  of  papers 
while  she,  still  standing  before  the  mirror,  bestowed  a 
few  comfortable  pats  upon  her  hair. 

"  John,"  Mitchell  said  jovially,  "  I  know  orders  from 


ON  TWO  FRONTS  73 

headquarters  when  I  get  'em.  You  were  going  to  stay 
over,  anyway;  but  use  your  own  judgment  about  obeying 
the  instructions  you  have  just  received." 

"  Never  had  such  agreeable  instructions  in  my  life," 
declared  Hampstead,  turning  to  Mrs.  Mitchell  with  an 
elaborately  stagy  bow,  and  the  natural  quotation  from 
Hamlet  which  leaped  to  his  lips : 

" '  I  shall  in  all  my  best  obey  you,  madam/  " 

"  See  that  you  do,"  said  that  lady,  not  half  liking  the 
bow  and  shooting  a  glance  at  Hampstead  less  cordial  than 
austere.  "  And  by  the  way,"  she  added,  "  see  that  you 
don't  let  that  stage  nonsense  carry  you  much  further, 
young  man,"  with  which  remark  Mrs.  Mitchell  turned 
abruptly  and  gave  Hampstead  a  most  complete  view  of  a 
broad  and  uncompromising  back. 

In  Mrs.  Mitchell's  mind  a  man  had  much  better  be  a 
section  hand  on  the  Great  Southwestern  than  a  fixed  star 
on  the  drama's  milky  way. 

"  By  the  way,  mother,"  remarked  Mr.  Mitchell,  with 
the  air  of  one  who  makes  an  important  revelation,  "  John 
is  just  going  out  to  dine  with  William  N.  Scofield." 

Mrs.  Mitchell  turned  quickly,  and  her  dark  eyes  shot  a 
meaningful  glance  at  her  husband,  while  the  line  of  her 
lower  lip  first  grew  full  and  then  protruded.  A  squeeze 
of  that  lip  at  the  moment,  Hampstead  reflected,  would 
extract  something  at  least  as  sour  as  very  sour  lemon 
juice. 

"  Scofield  is  after  him,"  bragged  Mitchell. 

"  Well,  see  that  he  doesn't  get  him,"  his  wife  com 
manded  sternly,  and  then  shifting  her  somber  glance  until 
it  rested  on  John  with  a  look  that  was  near  to  menace, 
inquired  acridly : 

"  Young  man,  you  wouldn't  be  disloyal  ?  You 
wouldn't  sell  yourself?"  In  the  second  interrogatory 
her  voice  had  passed  from  acridity  to  bitterness,  while  the 


74  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

eyes  bored  implacably,  till  Hampstead  at  first  wriggled, 
then  grew  resentful  and  replied  crisply,  standing  very 
straight : 

"  No,  Mrs.  Mitchell,  I  would  not  sell  myself!  " 

"  That's  right,"  exclaimed  Bessie,  stepping  impulsively 
toward  John's  side.  "  Do  not  let  her  browbeat  you.  I 
am  sorry  to  say,  Mr.  Hampstead,  that  mother  is  in 
clined  to  be  somewhat  dictatorial.  You  see  what  she 
does  to  poor  papa !  " 

"  And  you  see  what  you  do  to  poor  me,"  exclaimed  that 
worthy  lady,  turning  on  her  daughter  with  surprise  and 
injury  in  her  glance  and  tone, — "  dragging  me  almost 
out  of  bed  last  night  to  make  this  foolish  trip  up  here 
with  you.  Next  week,  of  all  weeks,  too,  when  I  wanted 
to  do  so  many  other  things." 

"  Ho !  ho !  "  broke  in  Mitchell,  "  so  that's  the  way  of 
it.  This  trip  up  here  is  a  scheme  of  yours,"  and  he 
turned  accusingly  upon  his  daughter,  but  Bessie  smiled 
and  curtseyed,  entirely  unabashed.  "  Well,  then,  I  don't 
guess  we'll  stay,"  teased  Mitchell.  "And  I  don't  sup 
pose  you  knew  a  thing  about  Hampstead's  being  here. 
That  was  all  an  accident." 

"  It  was  not,"  flashed  Bessie.  "  I  did.  I  haven't  seen 
dear  old  John  for  a  year.  I  could  go  in  and  have  delight 
ful  tete-a-tetes  with  him  when  he  was  a  stenographer,  but 
out  in  the  Rate  Department  there  are  forty  prying  eyes 
and  men  with  ears  as  long  as  jack-rabbits.  He  hasn't 
taken  me  to  a  circus  or  anything  for  nobody  knows  how 
long.  You  shall  give  him  money  for  theater  tickets,  for 
dinners,  for  auto  rides,  for  everything  nice  for  three 
whole  days." 

Bessie  was  standing  directly  in  front  of  her  father, 
her  eyes  looking  up  into  his,  and  her  two  hands  patting 
his  generous  jowls,  as  her  speech  was  concluded. 

John  listened  rapturously.     This  was  the  old  Bessie 


ON  TWO  FRONTS  75 

talking.  She  had  entered  the  room  looking  a  year  older, 
a  year  prettier  since  that  day  when  he  wrote  the  Phroso 
invitations  for  her,  and  had  taken  on  so  easily  the  lacquer 
and  dignity  of  dresses  and  of  years  that  he  was  beginning 
to  feel  in  awe  of  her.  This  speech  was  a  great  relief. 

Besides,  in  the  whirl  of  the  hour  before  she  came,  he 
had  found  himself  strangely  wanting  to  take  counsel 
with  Bessie.  The  Mitchells  had  made  of  him  for  all 
these  years  a  convenient  caretaker  of  their  daughter. 
Bessie  had  made  of  him  a  playfellow  with  whom  she 
took  the  same  liberties  as  with  any  other  of  her  father's 
possessions.  This  attitude  on  her  part  had  created  the 
only  atmosphere  in  which  Hampstead  could  have  been  at 
ease  with  her.  It  had  permitted  his  soul  to  bask  when 
she  was  by,  but  it  had  done  no  more.  But  now,  he  some 
how  wanted  to  confide  in  Bessie, —  not  to  take  her  advice 
for  he  wasn't  going  to  take  anybody's  advice;  all  advice 
was  against  him, —  but  to  tell  her  what  he  was  going  to 
do,  because  he  believed  she  would  listen  appreciatingly, 
if  not  sympathetically.  He  felt  he  needed  at  least  the 
added  support  of  a  neutral  mind.  He  had  rejected  Mr. 
Mitchell's  proposal,  but  the  glitter  of  it  flashed  occasion 
ally.  And  now  he  was  going  to  face  the  resourceful,  the 
ingratiating,  the  dominating  William  N.  Scofield,  and  he 
felt  like  a  man  who  goes  alone  to  meet  his  temptation  on 
the  mountain  top. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE   HIGH    BID 

FOR  an  hour  and  a  half  at  dinner,  and  for  another 
hour  sunk  in  the  depths  of  a  great  leather  chair  in  the 
lounging  room  of  the  Pacific  Union  Club,  William  N. 
Scofield  had  searched  the  soul  of  Hampstead,  who  had 
not  only  been  led  to  talk  rapturously  of  his  stage  ambi 
tion  but  to  reveal  the  metes  and  bounds  of  his  interest 
in  and  knowledge  upon  many  subjects. 

"  Gad,  but  you  know  a  lot,"  ejaculated  Scofield,  with 
unfeigned  amazement.  "  Where'd  you  get  it  all?  " 

"  I  have  read  a  good  deal,"  confessed  John,  trying  to 
appear  much  more  modest  than  in  his  heart  he  felt;  for 
it  was  a  part  of  Scofield's  whim  or  of  his  campaign  to 
flatter  him  enormously,  and  he  had  succeeded. 

But  for  a  time  now,  the  Traffic  Manager  was  silent, 
puffing  meditatively  at  his  cigar  and  staring  at  the  ceiling 
through  loafing  rings  of  smoke  in  which,  as  if  they  were 
floating  letters,  he  seemed  to  read  the  transcript  of  his 
thought, —  the  thought  that  if,  beside  employing  this 
enormously  able  young  man,  he  could  also  enlist  in  be 
half  of  the  railroad  as  an  institution  his  capacity  for 
fanatical  devotion  to  an  ideal,  the  prize  was  one  worth 
bidding  high  for,  high  enough  to  win ! 

"  People  like  you,  Hampstead,"  Scofield  broke  out 
presently,  and  in  his  most  ingratiating  vein.  "  We  all 
felt  that  down  at  the  office.  You  did  a  difficult  thing 
without  making  an  enemy  of  one  of  us.  Therefore  what 
your  personality  can  do  interests  me  even  more  than  what 
you  know." 

The  railroad  man  interrupted  his  speech  to  shoot  an 


THE  HIGH  BID  77 

exploratory  glance  from  under  veiling  lids  and  went  on 
calculatingly : 

"  The  railroad  business  is  going  to  change.  Now  we 
tell  the  Railroad  Commission  what  to  do.  The  time  is 
coming  when  it  will  tell  us  what  to  do,  and  we  will  do  it. 
But  the  public  attitude  toward  the  railroad  has  also  got 
to  change."  Scofield's  tone  had  taken  on  new  emphasis. 
"  You  would  make  the  type  of  executive  that  could  change 
it !  The  successful  transportation  man  of  the  future  has 
got  to  be  a  sort  of  ambassador  of  the  railroad  to  the 
people,  and  the  man  who  best  serves  the  people  tributary 
to  his  road  will  best  serve  his  stockholders." 

"  Do  you  know  who  gave  me  that  point?  "  the  Traffic 
Manager  asked,  turning  from  the  vision  he  was  contem 
plating  in  the  clouds  of  smoke  over  his  head  and  looking 
sharply  at  Hampstead. 

"  Naturally  not,"  admitted  the  younger  man. 

"  Bob  Mitchell,"  said  Scofield,  and  paused  while  his 
thin  lips  coaxed  persistently  at  the  cigar  which  appeared 
to  have  gone  out.  "  Bob  Mitchell !  And  I  reviled  him 
for  his  sagacity,  told  him  he  was  an  altruistic  fool.  But 
after  a  while  I  saw  he  was  right.  Then  I  tried  to  get 
him  for  us,  but  I  didn't  succeed.  He  wasn't  as  sensible 
as  I  hope  you  will  be.  Besides,  I  am  going  to  offer  you 
more  than  I  offered  him." 

More  than  he  offered  Mitchell!  There  was  a  sudden 
jolt  somewhere  in  John's  breast,  and  he  wet  a  dry,  parched 
lip,  but  did  not  speak. 

"  Yes,"  breathed  Scofield  softly,  almost  as  if  he  had 
been  interrupted.  "I  am  going  to  offer  you  more. 
Hampstead !  "  and  the  voice  was  raised  quickly,  "  I  want 
you  to  be  our  General  Freight  Agent !  " 

If  Scofield  had  leaned  over  and  kissed  him,  John  would 
not  have  been  more  surprised,  nor  have  known  less  what 
to  say. 


78  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  General  Freight  Agent !  "  he  croaked  hoarsely. 

"  Yes,"  affirmed  the  other  coolly,  almost  icily,  while  he 
flicked  the  ashes  from  his  cigar  and  enjoyed  the  sensation 
his  proposal  had  produced. 

"  At  my  age  ?  "  stumbled  John,  still  groping,  but  trying 
to  see  himself  in  the  position. 

"  Why,  yes,"  reassured  Scofield  suavely.  "  You  tell 
me  you're  past  twenty-five.  Paul  Morton  was  Assistant 
General  Freight  Agent  of  the  Burlington  at  twenty-one. 
Look  where  he  is  to-day  —  in  the  cabinet  of  the  President 
of  the  United  States.  The  salary,"  Scofield  added  casu 
ally,  by  way  of  finally  clinching  the  argument,  "  will  be 
twelve  thousand  a  year." 

Hampstead's  lips  silently  formed  the  words  —  twelve 
thousand !  But  he  did  not  utter  them.  They  dazed  him. 
They  rushed  him  headlong.  They  made  rejection  im 
possible.  No  man  had  a  right  to  throw  away  such  a 
fortune  as  that.  One  thousand  dollars  a  month!  He 
felt  himself  yielding,  helplessly,  irresistibly. 

And  then,  suddenly  as  the  photographer's  bomb  lights 
up  every  lineament  of  every  face  in  the  darkened  room, 
for  one  single  moment  Hampstead  saw  things  clearly  and 
in  their  true  proportions.  This  Schofield  was  not  a  man. 
He  was  a  grinning  devil,  with  horns  and  a  barb  on  his 
tail.  He  was  tempting,  trapping,  buying  him.  He  would 
not  be  bought.  "No,  Mrs.  Mitchell,  I  would  not  sell 
myself,"  he  had  said,  not,  however,  meaning  at  all  what 
that  lady  meant. 

Leaning  back  stubbornly,  his  fist  smiting  heavy  blows 
upon  the  cushioned  arm  of  the  chair,  John  muttered 
through  clenched  teeth : 

"No!  No!  No  — I'll  never  do  it.  No,  Mr.  Sco 
field,  I  cannot  accept  your  offer.  I  thank  you  for  it ;  but 
I  cannot  accept  it.  The  stage  is  to  be  the  place  of  my 
achievement.  vWhy,  why,  Mr.  Scofield,  the  wonderfully 


THE  HIGH  BID  79 

flattering  offer  you  have  made  to  me  to-night  has  come 
because  of  the  training  incident  to  the  cultivation  of  a 
stage  ambition.  If  it  can  bring  me  so  much  with  so  little 
devotion,  is  it  not  reasonable  to  suppose  that  it  will  bring 
me  more  —  very  much  more?  I  will  not  be  so  disloyal 
to  that  which  has  been  so  generous  with  me." 

Scofield's  countenance  had  suddenly  and  impressively 
changed.  It  became  a  mask  of  stone,  a  sphinx-like  thing, 
the  brow  a  knot,  the  nose  a  beak,  the  mouth  a  stitched 
scar.  The  beady  gleam  of  the  eyes  from  beneath  drawn 
lids  was  sinister.  This  fanatical  young  fool  was  es 
caping  him,  and  Scofield  did  not  like  any  one  to  escape 
him. 

But  the  young  man  refused  to  be  swerved  by  frowns. 

"  Not  to  manage  railroads,"  he  declared  enthusias 
tically,  "  but  to  mould  human  character  is  to  be  my  life- 
work  ;  to  depict  the  virtues  and  the  vices,  the  weaknesses 
and  the  strengths  of  life,  to  make  men  laugh  and  love 
and  —  forget." 

Scofield's  eyes  twinkled,  and  his  mouth  became  less  a 
scar,  but  John  thought  this  was  a  very  fine  phrase  really, 
and  he  rushed  along: 

"Life  looks  like  a  tangle,  like  a  mess  —  drudgeries, 
disappointments,  injustices  —  the  wrong  man  prosper 
ing —  the  wrong  girl  suffering!  The  drama  composes 
life.  It  grabs  out  a  few  people  and  follows  them,  com 
pressing  into  the  action  of  two  hours  the  eventualities  of 
a  lifetime  and  shortening  perspectives  till  men  can  see  the 
consequences  of  their  acts,  whether  for  good  or  for  ill. 
The  stage  teaches  the  doctrine  of  the  conservation  of 
moral  energy  —  and  of  immoral  energy  —  that  sustained 
effort,  conserved  effort  is  never  cheated;  it  gets  its  goal 
at  last." 

"  Say ! "  broke  in  Scofield ;  but  John  would  not  be 
denied  what  he  felt  was  a  final  smashing  generalization. 


8o  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  To  figure  the  tariff  on  human  conduct,  to  grade  and 
classify  the  acts  of  life,  to  quote  the  rates  on  happiness 
and  misery  in  trainload  lots.  That's  what  I'm  going  to 
do,"  he  concluded,  with  a  glow  upon  his  face. 

But  by  this  time  a  smile  of  cynic  pity  had  appeared 
upon  the  face  of  the  railroad  man. 

"  Hampstead,"  he  exclaimed  sharply,  with  a  mimic 
shudder  and  a  shrug  of  relief  as  if  he  had  just  escaped 
something,  "  you're  not  an  actor.  You're  a  preacher!  " 

John  gasped. 

"  You're  a  moralist,"  asserted  Scofield  accusingly,  "  a 
puritanical,  Sunday-school,  twaddling  moralist.  I  have 
misjudged  you.  I  wouldn't  want  you  around  at  all." 

With  a  look  akin  to  disgust  upon  his  face,  the  railroad 
man  made  a  motion  with  his  fingers  in  the  air  as  if  rid 
ding  them  of  something  sticky,  and  arose,  not  abruptly 
but  decisively,  making  clear  that  the  interview  had  proved 
disappointingly  unprofitable  and  was  therefore  at  an  end. 

John  also  arose,  bewildered  by  the  sudden  change  in 
Scofield's  attitude  —  a  change  which  he  resented,  and 
also  the  ground  of  it.  He  a  preacher?  The  idea  was 
ridiculous. 

Besides,  it  makes  an  astonishing  difference  when  one 
has  been  stubbornly  refusing  an  offer  to  have  the  offer 
coolly  and  decisively  withdrawn.  Something  subtly 
psychological  made  him  want  the  offer  back.  The  door 
of  opportunity  had  been  closed  behind  him  with  a  snap 
so  vicious  that  he  wanted  to  turn  and  kick  it  open. 

But  the  thin,  talon-like  hand  of  Scofield  was  hooking 
the  young  man's  rather  flaccid  palm  for  a  moment. 

"  Remember  what  I  tell  you,"  he  barked  out  in  parting. 
"You're  not  an  actor.  You're  not  a  railroad  man. 
You're  a  preacher !  " 

The  last  word  was  flung  bitingly,  like  an  epithet. 

John,  feeling  uncomfortable,  walked  out  and  along  one 


THE  HIGH  BID  8r 

side  of  Union  Square,  casting  a  momentary  wondering 
eye  on  the  stabbing,  twin  towers  of  the  Hotel  St.  Francis, 
many  windowed  and  many-lighted ;  then  turned  on  down 
Geary  into  Market  and  along  that  wide  and  cobbled 
thoroughfare  to  the  doors  of  the  old  Palace  Hotel.  By 
the  time  he  was  in  bed,  he  realized  that  Scofield  had 
shaken  him  terribly.  His  decision  was  all  to  make  over 
again. 

However,  Bessie  would  be  there  for  three  days  to  help 
him,  and  with  this  thought  he  felt  comforted. 

"  It's  been  a  great  three  days/'  sighed  John,  on  the  fol 
lowing  Tuesday.  Bessie  also  sighed. 

They  had  clambered  down  from  the  parapet  below  the 
Cliff  House  and  sat  watching  the  seals  at  play  upon  the 
rocks  a  stone's  throw  out  from  beneath  their  feet.  Their 
position  marked  the  southern  portal  of  the  famous  Golden 
Gate,  through  which  a  mile-wide  stream  of  liquid  blue  was 
running.  Across  the  Gate  rose  the  sheer  gray  cliffs  of 
Marin  County  and  beyond  those  the  rugged  greens  and 
blues  of  the  mountains,  spiked  in  the  center  by  the  peak 
of  Tamalpais. 

Before  their  faces,  the  ocean,  in  swells  and  scoops  of 
ever  grayer  gray,  ran  out  to  catch  the  horizon  as  it  fell, 
illumined  in  its  lower  reaches  by  the  sun,  which  was  sink 
ing  into  the  haze  above  the  waters  like  a  lustrous  orange 
ball. 

Southward,  beyond  the  green  head  of  Golden  Gate 
Park,  the  yellow  gray  of  the  sand  dunes  and  the  blue  gray 
of  the  sea  met  in  a  lingering,  playful  kiss  that  swept  back 
and  forth  in  a  long  shimmering  line  which  ran  on  sinu 
ously,  growing  fainter  and  fainter,  till  lost  in  the  shadow 
of  the  distant  cliffs. 

The  hour  was  five  o'clock.  At  eight  that  night  John 
was  to  leave  for  Los  Angeles.  His  vacation  —  the  only 


82  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

vacation  of  his  hard-driven  life  —  was  to  end,  and  an 
epoch  in  his  existence  was  also  nearing  its  end.  The  past 
was  clear  as  the  land  behind  him;  the  future  was  an  area 
of  tossing  uncertainty.  Nothing  appeared, —  no  track, 
no  wake,  no  sail,  no  sun  even.  Only  far  over,  beyond  the 
curve  of  the  horizon,  was  a  kind  of  strange,  unearthly 
glow,  and  on  this  his  eye  was  set. 

For  three  days  his  soul  had  ebbed  and  flowed  like  that 
lip  of  foam  upon  the  beach,  now  stealing  far  up  on  the 
land, —  for  him  the  backward  track ;  now  turning  and 
running  far  out  to  sea, —  for  him  the  way  of  adventure 
and  advance. 

But  now  the  ultimate  decision  was  to  be  made.  Bessie 
saw  it  rising  like  a  tide  upon  that  face  which  once  had 
seemed  not  to  fit,  a  rapt  look  which  snuggled  in  the  hills 
and  hollows  and  then  began  to  harden  like  setting  concrete. 
No  one  would  call  that  face  homely  now.  Interesting, 
most  likely,  would  have  been  the  word. 

The  gray  eyes  burned  brighter,  the  lips  grew  tighter. 
The  chin  advanced,  moved  out  to  sea  a  little,  as  it  were. 

"  Follow  your  star,  John,"  Bessie  declared  stoutly, 
though  a  look  of  pain  momentarily  touched  her  whitening 
lips.  "  I  shall  despise  you  if  you  do  not." 

"  The  decision  is  made,"  John  replied  solemnly,  "  and 
you,  Bessie,  have  helped  to  make  it." 

Bessie  did  not  reply ;  she  only  looked. 

Silence  fell  between  them.  Silence,  too,  was  in  the 
heavens;  the  sun,  the  waves,  the  restless  wind  for  the 
moment  appeared  to  stand  still.  All  nature  had  paused 
respectfully.  A  man,  young,  inexperienced,  but  poten 
tial,  had  cast  the  horoscope  of  life  beyond  the  power  of 
gods  or  men  to  intervene, —  and  with  it  had  cast  some 
other  horoscopes  as  well. 

Hampstead  felt  the  spell  his  act  of  will  had  wrapped 
about  them,  but  he  felt  also  the  substance  of  his  resolu- 


THE  HIGH  BID  83 

tion  framing  like  granite  in  his  soul  and  making  him 
strong  with  a  new  kind  of  strength. 

But  soon  the  sun  was  descending  again,  the  clouds  were 
drifting  once  more,  and  a  gust  of  wind  nipped  sharply, 
causing  the  skirts  of  John's  overcoat  to  flap  lustily. 
Bessie  twitched  her  fur  collar  closer  about  the  neck,  and 
thrust  both  hands  deep  into  the  pockets  of  her  gray  ulster. 
Hampstead  passed  his  own  hand  through  the  curve  of  the 
girl's  elbow,  gripped  her  forearm  possessively,  selfishly, 
absently,  and  drew  her  toward  him. 

Indeed  Bessie  was  closer  to  him  than  she  had  ever  been 
before ;  and  yet  she  had  never  felt  so  far  away. 

"  Oh,  but  it's  great  to  have  a  woman  by  you  in  a  crisis," 
John  chuckled  happily. 

Bessie  looked  up  startled.  John  had  called  her  woman. 
But  she  recovered  from  the  start, —  he  had  also  called  her 
a  woman. 

"  Come  to  understand  each  other  pretty  well,  haven't 
we?  "  John  observed,  still  looking  oceanward,  but  giving 
the  arm  of  Bessie  what  was  intended  for  a  meaningful 
squeeze. 

"  Not  at  all,"  sighed  Bessie,  also  still  looking  ocean- 
ward. 

Hampstead,  his  thoughts  bowling  rapidly  forward,  con 
tinued  motionless  until  a  white-winged,  curious-eyed  gull 
sailed  between  his  line  of  vision  and  the  water.  Then,  as 
if  abruptly  conscious  that  Bessie's  answer  was  not  what 
it  should  have  been,  he  turned,  and  at  the  same  time  boldly 
swung  her  body  round  till  they  stood  facing  each  other. 
Bessie  met  this  gaze  unblinkingly  for  a  moment,  with  her 
face  set  and  sober;  then  something  in  John's  mystified 
glance  touched  her  keen  sense  of  humor,  and  she  laughed, 
—  her  old,  roguish  laugh, —  and  flirted  the  stupid  in  the 
face  with  the  end  of  her  boa. 

"  You  great  big  egoist !  "  she  smiled.     "  There,  that's 


84  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

the  first  chance  I've  had  to  use  that  word.  I  only  learned 
the  difference  between  it  and  another  last  week." 

"  Indeed !  "  retorted  Hampstead.  "  And  when  did  you 
learn  the  difference  between  me  and  the  other  word?  " 

"  Well,  I'm  not  sure  that  there  is  a  difference,"  she 
sparred.  "  Being  polite,  I  just  concede  it." 

"  Oh,"  he  chuckled.  "  But,"  and  he  was  serious  again, 
"  you  say  we  don't  understand  each  other?  " 

"Nonsense;  I  was  only  joking.  I  do  understand 
you;  you  great,  big,  egoistical  egotist!  You  are  just 
now  absolutely  self -centered  —  and  all,  all  ambition! 
And  I  am  secretly  —  secretly,  you  understand  —  proud  of 
you!" 

"  And  you,"  said  Hampstead,  drawing  her  close  again, 
"  are  just  the  truest,  most  understanding  friend  a  man 
ever,  ever  had.  You  know,  Bessie,  a  fellow  can  talk  to 
you  just  like  a  sister, —  a  pretty  little  sister !  "  he  sub 
joined,  when  Bessie  looked  less  pleased  than  he  thought 
she  should. 

"  You've  changed  a  lot,  too,  in  a  year,"  he  conceded, 
studying  her  face  critically.  "  When  you  came  into  the 
hotel  that  night,  you  struck  fear  into  my  heart,  and  then 
kind  of  made  it  flutter.  I  said  to  myself,  *  She's  gone  — 
the  old  Bessie,  that  could  be  played  with.  But  here's  a 
young  woman,  a  handsome  young  woman,  taking  her 
place.' ' 

"  Did  you  say  that  ?  "  asked  Bessie  happily. 

"  An  exceedingly  beautiful  woman,"  went  on  John,  as 
if  stimulated  by  the  interruption.  "  By  George,  a  very 
corker  of  a  woman  —  look  at  those  eyes,  those  lips,  those 
dimples.  Same  old  dimples,  girl !  "  he  laughed  emotion 
ally.  "  And  I  said,  '  Now,  here's  a  woman,  a  ripe,  won 
derful  woman,  to  be  made  love  to  — ' '" 

"John!" 

There  was  in  Bessie's  sudden  exclamation  the  sur- 


THE  HIGH  BID  85 

charged  sense  of  all  the  proprieties  which  their  relationship 
involved. 

"  Oh,  don't  be  alarmed,"  exclaimed  Hampstead,  sud 
denly  very  earnest  and  respectful.  "  I  am  not  leading  up 
to  anything.  I  do  not  misunderstand  the  nature  of  your 
'goodness  to  me.  I  am  not  presuming  anything.  I  am 
only  telling  you  what  I  said  to  myself." 

"  Oh,"  murmured  Bessie  noncommittally,  though 
she  shivered  for  a  moment  as  if  a  gust  of  wind  had  come 
again.  Hampstead,  feeling  this,  drew  her  still  closer  and 
hunched  his  broad  shoulder  to  shelter  her  more,  as  he 
explained  further: 

"  But  it  was  I,  you  know,  and  there  was  nothing  for  me 
to  do  but  to  fly.  I  was  for  jumping  out  the  window. 
And  then  you  suddenly  made  that  wonderful  speech  about 
going  to  the  circus  with  dear  old  John,  and  your  mother 
let  it  out  that  you  wanted  me  to  run  around  with  you 
here,  and  I  saw  that  toward  me  you  were  the  same  old 
Bessie;  that  for  a  few  days  we  could  be  once  more  just 
friendly,  only  two  finer  friends,  because  we're  both  grown 
up  now." 

"  Yes,"  Bessie  sighed,  almost  contentedly.  "  I  did 
want  you,  John.  A  girl  gets  tired  of  society,  of  clubs 
and  dances  and  things,  even  in  High.  You  know,  I  get 
weary  of  the  sight  of  these  slim,  pompadoured  boys  some 
times.  I  just  wanted  somehow  to  feel  the  arm  of  a  real 
man,  to  hear  him  talk,  even  if  he  does  nothing  but  talk 
about  himself,  and  until  this  minute  in  three  days  has  not 
confessed  that  I  have  dimples,  and  —  and  a  heart." 

"  Slow,  about  some  things,  am  I  not?  "  confessed  John. 
"  Awfully,  awfully  slow !  " 

"  I  will  agree  with  you,"  said  Bessie,  with  a  mournful- 
ness  that  literally  compelled  him  to  perceive  that  she  was 
some  way  disappointed  in  him. 

"  But,"  he  inquired  reproachfully,  "  aside  from  my  use- 


86  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

fulness  as  a  social  escort  and  a  sort  of  masculine  tonic, 
you  do  admire  me  a  little,  don't  you?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  answered  frankly.  "  I  admire  you  a 
lot." 

"  But  you're  disappointed  about  something?  " 

"  Apprehension  is  the  better  word,"  she  confessed 
soberly. 

"Apprehension?  Of  what?"  John  was  looking  at 
her  almost  accusingly.  Bessie  avoided  his  glance.  She 
could  not  tell  him  what  she  feared  nor  why  she  feared  it. 

"  You  think  I'll  fail?  "  John  demanded. 

"  No/'  disclaimed  Bessie  seriously.  "  I  think  you  will 
succeed ! " 

"  You  think  so  ?  "  and  Hampstead's  face  lighted  bril 
liantly.  "  Oh,  God  bless  you  for  that !  "  and  again  he 
shook  her,  this  time  tenderly  and  drew  her  closer  till  her 
breast  was  touching  his,  and  she  leaned  her  head  far  back 
to  look  up  into  his  face. 

"  Yes,"  she  breathed  softly,  "  I  think  so !  " 

"  And  you  do  not  think  me  silly  for  turning  my  back 
upon  solid  realities  to  follow  my  ideal  ?  " 

"  No !  No !  "  and  she  shook  her  head  emphatically,  "  I 
honor  you  for  it,  John.  You  have  inspired  me,  John,  and 
thrilled  me.  I  used  to  think  —  how  good  you  are !  Now 
I  think  —  how  noble  you  are !  You  have  made  my  feel 
ing  for  you  one  of  worshipfulness  almost." 

The  look  in  her  face  did  express  that,  and  Hampstead 
noticed  it  now. 

"  Ah,"  he  murmured,  pressing  her  arms  against  her 
sides,  "  you  dear,  impressionable  little  girl !  " 

Quite  thoughtless  of  how  unnecessarily  close  he  was 
drawing  Bessie,  either  to  shelter  her  from  the  wind  or  for 
the  purpose  of  conversation,  or  especially  in  the  fulfillment 
of  his  duty  to  his  charge  as  guide  and  protector,  John  was 
finding  a  pleasurable  sensation  in  this  position  of  in- 


THE  HIGH  BID  87 

timacy,  and  was  indeed,  just  upon  the  threshold  of  one 
very  great  discovery  when  he  made  another,  perhaps 
equally  surprising,  but  vastly  less  important.  Looking 
into  the  upturned  eyes,  which  after  the  canons  of  Delsarte, 
he  was  thinking  expressed  "  devotion "  perfectly,  a 
shadow  was  seen  to  project  itself  downward  from  the 
upper  lids  across  the  iris,  as  if  a  storm  were  gathering  on 
a  placid  lake.  John  watched  the  shadow  curiously  as  it 
deepened,  until  it  became  clear  that  a  mist  was  congealing 
in  those  swimming  violet  depths. 

"  Why,  Bessie,"  he  exclaimed,  amazed,  "  you  are  going 
to  cry!" 

On  the  instant  two  tears  trickled  from  the  dark  lashes 
and  gleamed  for  a  moment  like  solitaire  diamonds  in  the 
setting  of  two  ruby  spots  that  had  gathered  unaccountably 
upon  her  upturned  cheeks. 

"  You  are  crying,"  he  charged  straightly. 

Bessie's  expression  never  changed,  but  her  smooth, 
round  chin  nodded  a  trembling  and  unabashed  assent.  A 
sudden  impulse  seized  John.  The  position  of  his  arms 
shifted. 

"  Bessie !  "  he  murmured  feelingly,  "  I  am  going  to 
kiss  you! " 

Bessie  did  not  appear  half  as  surprised  at  this  announce 
ment  as  Hampstead  at  himself  for  making  it. 

"  May  I  ?  "  he  persisted. 

The  expression  of  devotion  in  Bessie's  swimming  orbs 
remained  unstartled,  her  pose  unaltered.  Only  her  lips 
moved  while  she  breathed  a  single  word :  *  Yes." 

Instantly  their  ruby  and  velvet  softness  yielded  to  the 
pressure  of  John's,  planted  as  tenderly  and  chastely  as 
was  his  thought  of  her, —  for  that  other  discovery  that  he 
was  on  the  verge  of  making  had  been  fended  off  by  the 
coming  of  the  tear. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

JOHN    MAKES    UP 

THAT  night,  according  to  programme,  John  went  back 
to  Los  Angeles ;  and  a  few  weeks  later,  also  according  to 
programme,  he  was  again  in  San  Francisco,  no  longer  a 
railroad  man,  but  —  in  his  thought  —  an  actor. 

Now  calling  oneself  an  actor  and  being  one  are  quite 
different ;  but  it  took  an  experience  to  prove  this  to  John. 
Even  the  opportunity  for  this  experience  was  itself  hard 
to  get.  It  was  days  before  he  even  saw  a  theatrical  man 
ager,  weeks  before  he  met  one  personally,  and  a  month 
before  he  got  his  first  engagement. 

When  he  talked  of  the  drama  to  actors  the  way  he  had 
talked  of  it  to  the  Reverend  Charles  Thompson  Campbell, 
they  did  not  comprehend  him ;  when  he  talked  to  them  as 
he  had  to  Scofield,  they  smiled  cynically ;  when  he  admitted 
to  one  manager  that  he  was  without  professional  experi 
ence,  the  admission  drew  a  sneer  which  froze  the  stream 
of  hope  in  his  breast. 

John  thereafter  told  no  other  manager  this,  but  learned 
instead  the  value  of  a  "  front  ",  and  inserted  in  the  profes 
sional  columns  of  the  San  Francisco  Dramatic  Review  a 
card  which  read : 


JOHN  HAMPSTEAD 

HEAVY 
AT  LIBERTY 


"  Heavy "    in   theatrical   parlance   means   the   villain. 
Modestly  confessing  himself  not  quite  equal  to  "  leads  ", 


JOHN  MAKES  UP  89 

though  in  his  heart  John  scorned  to  believe  his  own  con 
fession,  he  had  announced  himself  as  a  "  heavy." 

This  card  appeared  for  three  succeeding  weeks,  but  on 
the  fourth  week  there  was  a  significant  change.     It  read : 


JOHN  HAMPSTEAD 

HEAVY 
With  the  People's  Stock  Company 


The  People's  Stock  Company  was  new,  a  "  ten-twenty- 
thirty  "  organization,  got  together  in  a  day  for  a  season  of 
doubtful  length,  in  a  huge  barn  of  a  house  that  once  had 
been  the  home  of  bucket-of -blood  melodramas,  but  for  a 
long  time  had  been  given  over  to  cobwebs  and  prize  fights. 
The  promoters  had  little  money.  They  spent  most  of  it 
on  new  paint  and  gorgeous,  twelve-sheet  posters.  Every 
thing  was  cheap  and  gaudy,  but  the  cheapest  thing  was  the 
company  —  and  the  least  gaudy. 

The  opening  play  was  a  blood-spiller  with  thrills  guaran 
teed;  the  scene  was  laid  in  Cuba  at  a  period  just  pre 
ceding  the  Spanish-American  War.  Hampstead's  part 
was  a  Spanish  colonel,  Delaro  by  name.  Delaro  was  no 
ordinary  double-dyed  villain.  He  was  triple-dyed  at  the 
least,  and  would  kick  up  all  the  deviltry  in  the  piece  from 
the  beginning  to  the  end ;  he  would  steal  the  fair  Yankee 
maiden  who  had  strayed  ashore  from  her  father's  yacht ; 
he  would  imprison  her  in  an  out-of-the-way  fortress ;  court 
her,  taunt  her,  threaten  her  —  and  then  when  the  audience N 
was  wrought  to  the  highest  pitch  of  excitement  and  the 
last  throb  of  pity  for  her  impending  fate  at  the  hands  of 
this  fiend  in  yellow  uniform  and  brass  buttons,  the  gal 
loping  of  horses  would  herald  the  appearance  of  Lieu 
tenant  Bangster,  U.  S.  N.,  lover  of  the  maiden  and  hero 
of  the  play.  (The  Navy  on  horseback!)  A  pitched 
battle  would  result,  pistols,  rifles,  cannon  would  be  fired, 
the  fortifications  would  be  blown  away,  and  Old  Glory 


90  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

go  fluttering  up  the  staff  to  the  thundering  applause  of 
the  gods  of  the  gallery. 

Delaro  was  an  enormous  opportunity;  but  it  was  also 
an  enormous  responsibility.  John  went  into  rehearsal 
haunted  by  fear  that  the  carefully  guarded  secret  of  his 
inexperience  would  be  discovered,  knowing  that  instant 
humiliation  and  discharge  would  follow.  He  had 
trudged,  hoped,  brazened,  starved,  prayed  to  get  this  part. 
He  must  not  lose  it,  and  he  must  make  good.  The  sweat 
of  desperation  oozed  daily  from  his  pores. 

Halson,  the  stage  manager,  was  a  tall,  tubercular  per 
son,  with  a  husk  in  his  throat  and  a  cloudy  eye.  This  eye 
seemed  always  to  John  to  be  cloudier  still  when  turned  on 
him.  On  the  fourth  day  of  rehearsal,  these  clouded  looks 
broke  out  in  lightning. 

"  Stop  that  preaching ! "  Halson  commanded  impa 
tiently.  "  You  are  intoning  those  speeches  like  a  parrot 
in  a  pulpit.  Colonel  Delaro  is  not  a  bishop.  He  is  a 
villain  —  a  damned,  detestable,  outrageous  villain !  Play 
it  faster;  read  those  speeches  more  naturally.  My  God, 
you  must  have  been  playing  —  By  the  way,  Hampstead, 
what  were  you  playing  last  ?  " 

The  shot  was  a  bull's-eye.  John  felt  himself  suddenly 
a  monstrous  fraud  and  had  a  sickening  sense  of  predes 
tined  failure.  In  his  soul  he  suddenly  saw  the  truth. 
Acting  was  not  bluffing.  Acting  was  an  art !  The  poor 
est,  dullest  of  these  people,  bad  as  they  appeared  to  be, 
knew  how  to  read  their  lines  more  naturally  than  he.  He 
was  not  an  actor.  He  never  had  been  an  actor.  He  was 
only  a  recitationist. 

"  What  were  you  playing  last,  I  say  ?  "  bullied  Halson, 
as  if  suddenly  suspicious. 

But  John  had  rallied.  "  If  I  don't  get  the  experience, 
how  will  I  ever  become  an  actor,"  was  what  he  said  to 
himself. 


JOHN  MAKES  UP  91 

"  My  last  season  was  in  Shakespeare,"  was  what  he 
observed  to  Halson,  with  deliberate  dignity. 

"  Oh,"  exclaimed  the  stage  manager,  much  relieved. 
"  That  explains  it.  I  was  beginning  to  think  somebody 
had  sawed  off  a  blooming  amateur  on  me." 

John  had  not  deemed  it  prudential  to  add  that  this  sea 
son  in  Shakespeare  lasted  one  whole  evening  and  con 
sisted  of  some  slices  from  the  Merchant  of  Venice  pre 
sented  in  the  parlor  of  the  Hotel  Green  in  Pasadena ;  and 
the  scorn  with  which  Halson  had  immediately  pronounced 
the  word  "  amateur  "  sent  a  shiver  to  Hampstead's  mar 
row,  while  he  congratulated  himself  on  his  discretion. 
Nevertheless,  he  suffered  this  day  many  interruptions 
and  much  kindergarten  coaching  from  Halson  and  felt 
himself  humiliated  by  certain  overt  glances  from  the 
cast. 

"The  boobs!"  thought  John.  "The  pin-heads! 
They  don't  know  half  as  much  as  I  do.  They  never 
taught  a  Y.  M.  C.  A.  class  in  public  speaking;  they  never 
gave  a  lesson  in  elocution  in  all  their  lives,  and  here  they 
are  staring  at  me,  because  I  have  a  little  trouble  mastering 
the  mere  mechanics  of  stage  delivery.  It's  simple.  I'll 
have  it  by  to-morrow." 

But  at  the  end  of  the  rehearsal,  John  felt  weak.  In 
stead  of  leaving  the  theater,  he  slipped  behind  a  curtain 
into  one  of  the  boxes  and  sank  down  in  the  gloom  to  be 
alone  and  think.  But  he  was  not  so  much  alone  as  he 
thought.  A  voice  came  up  out  of  the  shadows  in  the 
orchestra  circle.  It  was  the  voice  of  Neumeyer,  the 
"  angel "  of  the  enterprise,  who  was  even  more  inex 
perienced  in  things  dramatic  than  his  "  heavy  "  man. 

"  How  do  you  think  it'll  go  ?  "  Neumeyer  had  asked 
anxiously. 

"  Oh,  it'll  go  all  right,"  barked  the  whiskey-throat  of 
Halson.  "  It'll  go.  All  that's  worrying  me  is  this  blamed 


92  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

fool  Hampstead.  How  in  time  I  sawed  him  off  on  my 
self  is  more  than  I  can  tell.  However,  I've  engaged  a  new 
heavy  for  next  week." 

John  groped  dumbly  out  into  the  day.  But  in  the  sun 
shine  his  spirits  rallied.  "  They  can't  take  this  part  away 
from  me,"  he  exulted  and  then  croaked  resolutely :  "  I'll 
show  'em;  I'll  show  'em  yet.  They're  bound  to  like  me 
when  they  see  my  finished  work." 

And  that  was  what  he  kept  saying  to  himself  up  to  the 
very  night  of  the  first  performance.  But  that  significant 
occasion  brought  him  face  to  face  with  another  problem, — 
his  make-up. 

The  matter  of  costume  was  simple.  It  had  been  rented 
for  a  week  from  Goldstein's.  It  was  fearsomely  con 
trived.  The  trousers  were  red.  Varnished  oilcloth  leg 
gings,  made  to  slip  on  over  his  shoes,  were  relied  upon  to 
give  the  effect  of  top  boots.  The  coat  was  of  yellow,  with 
spiked  tails,  with  huge,  leaf -like  chevrons,  with  rows  of 
large,  superfluous  buttons,  and  coils  on  coils  of  cord  of 
gold. 

But  make-up  could  not  be  hired  from  a  co stumer  and 
put  on  like  a  mask.  It  was  a  matter  of  experience,  of  in 
dividuality,  and  of  skill  upon  the  part  of  the  actor.  All 
John  knew  of  make-up  he  had  read  in  the  books  and 
learned  from  those  experimental  daubs  in  which  his 
features  had  been  presented  in  his  own  barn-storming  pro 
ductions.  The  make-up  of  Ursus  had  been  almost  en 
tirely  a  matter  of  excess  of  hair,  acquired  by  a  beard  and 
a  wig  rented  for  the  occasion.  This;  therefore,  was 
really  to  be  his  first  professional  make-up,  and  Hamp 
stead  was  blissfully  determined  that  it  should  be  a  stunning 
achievement. 

In  order  that  he  might  have  plenty  of  time  for  experi 
ment,  the  heavy  man  entered  the  dressing  rooms  at  six 
o'clock,  almost  an  hour  and  a  half  before  any  other  actor 


JOHN  MAKES  UP  93 

felt  it  necessary  to  appear,  and  went  gravely  about  his  im 
portant  task. 

First  treating  the  pores  of  his  face  to  a  filling  of  cold 
cream, —  all  the  books  agreed  in  this, —  John  chose  a  dark 
flesh  color  from  among  his  grease  paints  and  proceeded  to 
give  himself  a  swarthy  Spanish  complexion.  Judging 
that  this  swarthiness  was  too  somber,  he  proceeded  next 
to  mollify  it  by  the  over-laying  of  a  lighter  flesh  tint;  but 
later,  in  an  effort  to  redden  the  cheeks,  he  got  on  too  much 
color  and  was  under  the  necessity  of  darkening  it  again. 
Thus  alternately  lightening  and  darkening,  experimenting 
and  re-experimenting,  seven  o'clock  found  him  with  a 
layer  of  grease  paint,  somewhere  about  an  eighth  of  an 
inch  thick  masking  his  features  into  almost  complete  im 
mobility. 

Next  he  turned  attention  to  the  eyes,  blackening  the 
lashes  and  edging  the  lids  themselves  with  heavy  mourn 
ing.  At  the  outer  corners  of  the  eyes  he  put  on  a  smear 
of  white  to  drive  the  eye  in  toward  the  nose;  between  the 
corner  of  the  eye  and  the  nose,  he  was  careful  to  deepen 
the  shadow.  This  was  to  make  his  eyes  appear  close  to 
gether.  Down  the  bridge  of  the  nose  he  drew  a  straight 
white  stripe  to  make  that  organ  high  and  thin  and  nar 
row;  while  in  the  corner  between  the  cheek  and  nostril 
went  another  smear  of  white,  to  drive  the  nose  up  still 
higher  and  sharper. 

In  the  midst  of  this  artistry,  Jarvis  Parks,  the  charac 
ter  man,  who  had  been  assigned  to  dress  with  Hampstead, 
entered. 

"  Hello,"  said  John,  with  an  attempt  at  unconcern. 

"  Hard  at  it,"  commented  Parks,  and  began  with  the 
ease  of  long  practice  to  arrange  his  make-up  materials 
about  him,  after  which  deftly,  and  almost  without  looking 
at  what  he  was  doing,  he  transformed  himself  into  a 
youthful,  rosy-cheeked,  navy  chaplain. 


94  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  Half  hour !  "  sang  the  voice  of  the  call  boy  from  below 
stairs. 

John  was  busy  now  adjusting  a  pirate  moustache  to  his 
upper  lip  by  means  of  liberal  swabbings  of  spirit  gum. 
As  he  worked,  he  hummed  a  little  tune  just  to  show 
Parks  how  much  at  ease  and  with  what  satisfied  indiffer 
ence  he  performed  the  feat  of  transposing  his  fair  Saxon 
features  into  the  cruel  scowls  of  a  villainous  Spanish 
colonel. 

But  catching  the  eye  of  Parks  upon  him  for  a  moment, 
Hampstead  was  puzzled  by  the  expression,  although  he 
reflected  that  it  was  probably  admiration,  since  he  cer 
tainly  had  got  on  ever  so  much  better  than  he  expected. 
It  surely  was  a  fine  make-up  —  a  brilliant  make-up. 

"  Fifteen  minutes,"  sang  the  voice  of  the  call  boy. 

Hampstead  could  really  contain  his  self-complacency 
no  longer. 

"  Well,"  he  exclaimed,  turning  squarely  on  Parks, 
"  what  do  you  think  of  it?  " 

Now  if  John  had  only  known,  he  disclosed  his  whole 
amateurish  soul  to  wise  old  Parks  in  that  single  question, 
for  a  professional  actor  never  asks  another  professional 
what  he  thinks  of  his  make-up. 

"  Great !  "  responded  Parks  drily,  but  again  there  was 
that  look  upon  his  face  which  Hampstead  could  not  quite 
interpret. 

"  Five  minutes !  "  was  bellowed  up  the  stairway. 

Hampstead  drew  on  his  coat  of  brilliant  yellow,  buckled 
on  his  sword,  and  had  opportunity  to  survey  himself  again 
in  the  glass  and  bestow  a  few  more  touches  to  the  face 
before  the  word  "  overture  ",  the  call  boy's  final  scream  of 
exultation,  echoed  through  the  dressing  rooms. 

The  corridor  outside  John's  door  was  immediately  filled 
with  the  sound  of  trampling  feet,  of  voices  male  and 
female,  some  talking  excitedly,  some  laughing  nervously, 


JOHN  MAKES  UP  95 

every  soul  aquiver  with  that  brooding  sense  of  the  ominous 
which  sheds  itself  over  the  spirits  of  a  theatrical  company 
upon  a  first  night. 

Parks,  with  a  final  touch  to  his  hair  and  a  sidewise 
squint  at  himself,  turned  and  went  out.  The  footsteps 
and  voices  in  the  corridor  grew  fainter  and  then  came 
trailing  back  from  the  stairway  like  a  chatterbox  reces 
sional. 

It  was  quiet  in  the  dressing  rooms,  except  for  a  droning 
from  across  the  way,  and  John  knew  what  that  was ;  for 
the  sweet  little  ingenue  had  told  him  in  a  moment  of  confi 
dence  :  "  On  first  nights  I  always  go  down  on  my  knees 
before  I  leave  my  dressing  room."  There  she  was  now, 
telling  her  beads. 

"  Shall  I  pray,  too?  "  he  asked,  and  then  answered  reso 
lutely,  "  No !  Let's  wait  and  see  what  God'll  do  to 
me." 

His  throat  was  arid.  His  lips,  from  the  drying  spirit 
gum  and  the  excess  of  grease  paint,  were  stiff  and  un 
responsive. 

" Eternal  Hammering  is  the  Price  of  Success"  he  mut 
tered  thickly,  trying  to  brace  himself.  "  Now  for  a  great 
big  swing  with  the  hammer."  But  his  spirits  sagged  un 
accountably,  and  he  turned  out  into  the  corridor  as  if  for  a 
death  march. 

At  this  moment  the  area  between  the  foot  of  the  stairs 
and  the  wings  of  the  stage  was  a  weaving  mass  of  idling 
scene-shifters,  hurrying,  nervous,  property  men,  and  a 
horde  of  supernumeraries  made  up  as  American  sailors, 
Spanish  soldiers,  and  Cuban  natives.  All  was  movement 
and  confusion. 

The  principals  had  drifted  to  their  entrances  and  taken 
position  in  the  order  in  which  they  would  appear ;  but  they 
too  were  restless ;  nobody  stood  quite  still ;  at  every  move 
ment,  at  every  loud  word,  everybody  turned  or  looked  or 


96  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

started.  The  hoarse  voice  of  Halson  and  his  assistant, 
Page,  repeatedly  resounded. 

As  Hampstead  descended  the  stairs  upon  this  strange, 
moving  picture,  it  appeared  to  him  to  organize  into  a 
ferocious,  misshapen  monster  that  meant  him  harm ;  or  a 
python  coiling  and  uncoiling  its  gigantic,  menacing  folds. 
The  thing  was  argus-eyed,  too,  and  every  eye  stabbed  him 
like  a  lance. 

Emerging  upon  the  floor,  John  paused  uncertainly  be 
fore  this  hostile  wall  of  prying  scrutiny.  Somebody 
snickered.  A  woman's  voice  groaned  "  My  Gawd !  "  and 
followed  it  with  a  hysterical  giggle. 

Could  it  be  that  they  were  laughing  at  him  ?  John  felt 
that  this  was  possible;  but  he  stoutly  assured  himself  that 
it  was  not  probable. 

However,  just  as  his  features  passed  under  the  rays  of  a 
bunch  light  standing  where  it  was  to  illumine  with  the 
rays  of  the  afternoon  sun  the  watery  perspective  of  a 
jungle  scene,  he  came  face  to  face  with  the  stage  manager. 
Halson  darted  one  quick  glance,  and  then  a  look  of  horror 
congealed  upon  his  face. 

"  In  the  name  of  God!  "  he  hissed  huskily.  "  Hamp 
stead,  what  have  you  been  doing  to  yourself  ?  " 

"Doing  to  myself?"  exclaimed  John,  trying  for  one 
final  minute  to  fend  off  fate.  "Why?  What  do  you 
mean  ?  " 

Halson's  voice  floated  up  in  a  half  humorous  wail  of 
despair,  as  he  rolled  his  eyes  sickly  toward  the  flies. 

"  What  do  I  mean  ?  "  he  whined.  "  The  man  comes 
down  here  with  his  face  daubed  up  like  an  Esquimaux 
totem  pole,  and  he  asks  me  what  do  I  mean  ?  " 

But  Halson  was  interrupted  by  a  sudden  silence  from 
the  front.  The  orchestra  had  stopped.  The  curtain  was 
about  to  rise. 

"  Page !     Page !  "  groaned  Halson  in  a  frantic  whisper, 


JOHN  MAKES  UP  97 

"  Hold  that  curtain !  Signal  a  repeat  to  the  orchestra ! 
Here,  you !  "  to  the  call  boy.  "  Run  for  my  make-up  box. 
Quick!" 

John's  knees  were  trembling,  and  he  felt  his  cheeks 
scalding  in  a  sweat  of  humiliation  beneath  their  blanket  of 
lurid  grease,  as  Halson  turned  again  upon  him  with : 

"  You  poor,  miserable,  God- forsaken  amateur !  " 

Amateur !  There,  the  word  was  out  at  last,  and  it  was 
terrible.  No  language  can  express  the  volume  of  oppro 
brium  which  Halson  was  able  to  convey  in  it.  To  Hamp- 
stead  it  could  never  henceforth  be  anything  but  the  most 
profane  of  epithets.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  was  never 
after  able  to  hate  any  man  sufficiently  to  justify  calling 
him  an  amateur. 

While  the  orchestra  dawdled,  while  the  company  of 
"  supers  "  crowded  close,  and  the  principals  looked  sneer- 
ingly  on  from  all  distances,  Halson  made  up  the  heavy's 
face  for  the  part  he  was  to  play,  thereby  submitting  John 
Hampstead  to  the  bitterest  humiliation  of  his  dramatic 
career. 

Yet  once  engaged  upon  this  work  of  artistry,  the  stage 
manager's  wrath  appeared  to  soften.  Half  cajoling  and 
half  pleading,  he  whined  over  and  over  again,  "If  you 
had  only  told  me,  Mr.  Hampstead!  If  you  had  only  told 
me,  I  would  have  helped  you." 

"  If  I  only  had  told  him,"  reflected  John,  beginning  all 
at  once  to  like  Halson,  and  never  suspecting  that  the  man 
in  his  heart  was  hating  him  like  a  fiend,  and  that  his  fear 
that  the  amateur  would  go  absolutely  to  pieces  under  the 
strain  of  the  night  was  the  sole  reason  for  soothing  and 
encouraging  and  commiserating  him  by  turns. 

But  now  the  orchestra  grew  still  again. 

"  Aw-right,"  husked  Halson,  and  Hampstead  heard  that 
ominous,  sliding,  rustling  sound  which  to  the  actor  is  like 
no  other  in  all  the  world. 


CHAPTER  IX 

A   DEMONSTRATION    FROM   THE   GALLERY 

EVERY  chair  in  the  orchestra  of  the  People's  Theater 
was  taken;  the  boxes  were  occupied,  and  as  for  the  odd 
rectangular  horseshoe  of  a  gallery,  with  its  advancing 
arms  reaching  forward  almost  to  the  proscenium  arch, 
while  its  rearward  tiers  rose  and  faded  into  distance  like 
some  vast  enclosed  bleachers,  it  seemed  a  solid  mass  of 
humanity.  The  curtain  rose  on  critical  silence.  The 
repetition  of  the  overture  had  given  a  hint  that  all  was  not 
running  smoothly,  and  at  the  first  spoken  word  a  jeer  came 
from  the  gallery.  The  actor  stammered  and  made  the 
foolish  attempt  to  repeat  his  words,  but  the  attempt  was 
lost  in  a  clamor  of  voices.  Feet  were  stamped,  hats  were 
waved,  peanuts  and  popcorn  balls  were  thrown.  The 
actors  braced  themselves  and  went  on  doggedly,  but  so  did 
the  balconies,  and  it  presently  appeared  that  something 
like  a  demonstration  was  in  progress.  Swiftly  an  ex 
planation  of  the  great  masses  in  the  gallery  and  their 
behavior  was  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth  behind  the 
scenes.  It  said  they  were  six  hundred  south-of-Market- 
Street  hoodlums  who  had  been  hired  by  a  rival  theatrical 
manager  to  come  and  break  up  the  performance. 
Whether  this  was  true,  or  whether  the  outbreak  in  the 
gallery  was  merely  the  unsuppressible  spirit  of  turbulent 
youth,  it  stormed  on  like  a  simoon,  gaining  in  volume  as 
it  proceeded. 

For  a  while  the  people  down-stairs,  having  paid  their 
thirty  cents  to  witness  a  theatrical  performance,  protested ; 


DEMONSTRATION  FROM  THE  GALLERY      99 

but  they  appeared  soon  to  conclude  that  the  show  in  the 
gallery  was  the  more  worth  while.  Ceasing  to  protest, 
they  began  to  applaud  the  trouble-makers  and  even  to  abet 
them. 

Behind  the  scenes  panic  reigned.  The  actors  at  their 
exits  bounded  off,  panting  in  terror,  as  if  pelted  by  bullets. 
Those  whose  cues  for  entrance  came,  snatched  at  them 
excitedly,  and  like  gladiators  rushing  into  the  arena, 
plunged  desperately  upon  the  stage.  The  face  of  the  lead 
ing  lady  was  white  beneath  her  make-up  as  she  almost 
tottered  upon  the  scene.  Some  instinct  of  chivalry  led 
the  mob  to  desist  for  a  minute  while  she  delivered  her 
opening  lines.  But  the  demonstration  broke  out  afresh 
as  the  leading  man  entered,  though  he  wore  the  uniform 
of  a  lieutenant  in  the  navy.  His  every  speech  was  jeered. 
The  excitement  grew  wilder ;  not  a  word  spoken  upon  the 
stage  was  heard,  even  by  the  leader  of  the  orchestra. 

"  My  God,  what  they  will  do  to  you,  Hampstead !  "  ex 
claimed  Halson  fiercely,  as  a  detachment  in  the  gallery 
began  to  march  up  and  down  the  aisle,  the  rhythm  of  their 
heavy  steps  making  the  old  house  shiver  like  a  ship  in  a 
storm. 

Yet  of  all  the  actors  trembling  behind  the  scenes,  it  is 
possible  that  Hampstead  was  the  very  coolest.  He  had 
been  the  most  perturbed,  the  most  distraught;  but  this 
counter-disturbance  made  his  own  distressing  situation 
forgotten.  No  eyes  were  riveted  on  him  now.  No 
thoughts  were  on  him  and  the  terrible  humiliation  he  had 
publicly  endured  or  the  wretched  failure  he  was  going  to 
make.  The  best,  the  most  experienced,  were  in  the  most 
complete  distress  —  clear  out  of  themselves.  The  lead 
ing  man  had  become  angry,  had  lost  his  lines,  and  did  not 
know  what  he  was  saying. 

"  Stanley's  lost ;  he's  ad-libbing  to  beat  the  band,"  John 
heard  Page  remark. 


ioo  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

Ad-libbing!  It  was  a  new  word.  In  the  midst  of  all 
this  confusion,  John  took  note  of  it  and  next  day  learned 
of  Parks  that  it  was  a  stage-participle  made  from  ad 
libitum.  An  actor  ad-libbing  was  an  actor  talking  on  and 
on  to  fill  space  in  some  kind  of  a  stage  wait  or  because,  as 
with  Stanley,  he  had  forgotten  his  lines. 

Neumeyer,  the  "  angel ",  came  in  from  the  front  and 
added  his  white,  agitated  face  to  the  awed  groups  standing 
about  the  wings. 

"  They've  lost  half  the  first  act,"  he  groaned,  through 
chattering  teeth.  "  Even  when  they  wear  'emselves  out, 
the  piece  is  ruined  because  the  people  down-stairs  have 
missed  the  key  to  the  plot." 

"  Your  cue  is  coming,"  bawled  Page  to  John. 

"  Don't  worry,  though,"  croaked  Halson  in  Hamp- 
stead's  ear,  still  fearful  that  his  man  would  collapse. 
"  The  piece  is  going  so  rotten  you  can't  make  it  any  worse. 
Cut  in!" 

But  to  his  surprise,  Hampstead's  eye  glinted  with  the 
light  of  battle. 

"Worry?"  he  exclaimed  excitedly.  "Watch  me. 
I'm  going  to  get  'em !  " 

Halson  gazed  in  pure  pity. 

"  Get  'em,"  he  gutturaled.  "  You  poor,  God-forsaken 
amateur ! " 

But  the  cue  had  come.  Colonel  Delaro,  his  sword  clat 
tering,  his  buttons  flashing,  his  tall  figure  aglow  with  color, 
leaped  through  the  entrance  and  took  the  center  of  the 
stage  —  so  clumsily  that  he  trod  on  Stanley's  favorite  corn 
and  hooked  a  spur  in  the  mantilla  trailing  from  the  arm  of 
Miss  Constance  Beverly,  the  mislaid  daughter  of  a  million 
aire  yachtsman;  but  nevertheless,  Hampstead  was  on. 
He  had  seized  the  center  of  the  stage  and  he  filled  it  full, 
as  with  an  ostentatious  gesture,  he  swept  off  his  gold  lace 
cap  before  Miss  Beverly. 


DEMONSTRATION  FROM  THE  GALLERY     101 

"  What  star's  this  ?  "  shrieked  a  voice  on  one  side  the 
gallery. 

"  No  star  at  all.  It's  a  comet !  "  bawled  a  man  from  the 
other  side,  cupping  his  hands  to  carry  his  second-hand  wit 
around  the  auditorium. 

The  Spanish  War  was  not  then  so  far  back  in  memory 
that  the  sight  of  the  uniform  did  not  speedily  kindle  a 
little  popular  wrath  upon  its  own  account,  and  the  demon 
stration  began  again  and  rose  higher,  but  Hampstead  be 
came  neither  flustered  nor  angry.  He  maintained  his 
character  and  his  dignity.  He  remembered  his  speeches, 
and  delivered  them  in  stentorian  tones  that  sounded  vi 
brantly  above  the  general  clamor.  When  the  gallery  dis 
covered  to  its  surprise  that  here  was  a  voice  it  could  not 
entirely  drown,  it  stopped  out  of  sheer  curiosity  to  see 
what  the  voice  was  like  and  found  it  as  attractive  as  it  was 
forceful.  Moreover,  there  was  a  kind  of  special  appeal 
in  it.  It  was  the  voice  of  a  real  man;  if  they  had  only 
known  it, —  of  a  man  at  bay.  He  was  not  Colonel  Delaro, 
plotting  against  the  liberty  and  affections  of  a  lady.  He 
was  John  Hampstead,  fighting, —  with  his  back  to  the  wall, 
—  fighting  for  his  opportunity,  for  an  accredited  position 
in  this  poor,  cheap  misfit  company, —  a  position  which 
seemed  to  him  just  now  the  most  desired  thing  in  all  the 
world.  Furthermore,  he  was  fighting  to  justify  his  own 
faith  in  himself  and  the  faith  of  Dick  and  Tayna;  yes, 
and  the  faith  of  Bessie. 

Hampstead  was,  moreover,  used  to  rough  houses.  He 
had  faced  them  more  than  once  on  his  own  barn-storming 
one-night  appearances. 

The  way  to  get  an  audience  like  this  he  knew  was  to 
play  it  like  a  fish,  to  get  the  first  nibble  of  interest  and 
then  hold  it  motionless  with  the  lure  of  some  kind  of 
dramatic  story.  The  situation  called  for  a  skilled, 
dramatic  raconteur,  and  in  truth  that  was  what  Hamp- 


102  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

stead  was, —  not  an '  actor  but  a  recitationist.  Also  his 
talks  in  church  circles  had  given  him  skill  in  extemporane 
ous  speaking.  It  happened  that  his  speeches  in  this  first 
act  completed  the  introduction  of  the  plot,  but  they  were 
meaningless  without  a  clear  knowledge  of  what  already 
had  been  said.  Now  Hampstead  began,  at  first  instinc 
tively  and  then  deliberately,  as  he  played,  to  gather  up 
these  lost  lines  of  half  a  dozen  actors  and  weave  them  into 
his  own.  The  fever  of  composition  seized  him.  He  used 
the  people  on  the  stage  like  puppets.  He  made  them  help 
him  re-lay  the  plot  while  he  struggled  to  grasp  the  atten 
tion  of  the  mass  child-mind  out  there  in  front  and  enthrall 
it  with  a  story. 

No  better  way  could  have  been  devised  of  making 
Hampstead  overcome  his  terrible  faults  of  action  and  de 
livery.  jWith  marvelous  intensity  came  more  repose. 
His  eyes  had  been  changed  by  the  deft  hand  of  Halson  till 
they  no  longer  looked  like  holes  in  a  blanket ;  and  he  shot 
out  his  speeches,  never  once  in  that  rhythmic,  preaching 
tone,  but  rapidly,  jerkily,  plausible  or  menacing  by  turns, 
but  all  the  while  convincingly. 

Within  a  few  minutes  the  audience  was  captured.  It 
lost  its  enthusiasm  for  riot  and  sat  silent,  following  first 
the  story  as  Hampstead  had  retold  it  and  then  the  action 
which  thereafter  began  to  unfold.  It  was  the  sheer 
strength  of  the  personality  of  the  man  which  made  this 
possible.  In  his  strength,  too,  the  other  players  took 
courage ;  and  soon  the  action  was  tightly  keyed  and  mov 
ing  forward  to  a  better  conclusion  of  the  act  than  any  re 
hearsal  had  ever  promised. 

At  the  fall  of  the  curtain,  an  avalanche  leaped  upon 
Hampstead,  an  avalanche  which  consisted  solely  of  Hal- 
son.  He  seemed-  to  have  a  thousand  hands.  He  was 
slapping  John  on  the  back  with  all  of  them,  in  fierce,  con 
gratulatory  blows. 


DEMONSTRATION  FROM  THE  GALLERY     103 

"  Man !"  he  exclaimed.  "Man!  You  saved  it!  You 
saved  it!" 

Neumeyer  was  capering  about  deliriously,  while  tears 
of  joy  were  trickling  from  his  eyes.  Others  crowded 
round:  Stanley,  who  had  the  lead,  amiable  old  Parks, 
Lindsay,  Bordwell,  Miss  Harlan,  and  the  rest. 

The  audience,  too,  was  excitedly  expressing  itself  with 
hand-clappings  and  foot-stampings. 

"  Scatter !  "  bawled  Page. 

The  stage  swiftly  cleared  of  people  as  the  curtain  began 
to  rise. 

"  Miss  Harlan !  "  Page  was  shouting.  "  Mr.  Stanley ! 
Mr.  Hampstead !  " 

In  the  order  named,  the  three  emerged  and  took  their 
calls,  but  the  heartiest  applause  was  for  the  big  man  in 
yellow  and  red,  who,  quite  ignoring  the  orchestra  circle, 
showed  all  his  teeth  in  a  cordial  and  understanding  grin 
to  the  galleries,  which  thereupon  broke  out  in  that  hurri 
cane  of  hisses  which  is  the  heavy's  hoped-for  tribute. 

Throughout  the  remainder  of  the  performance,  the  yel 
low  and  scarlet  figure  of  Delaro,  with  his  great,  sweeping 
gestures  and  his  vast,  bellowing  voice,  moved,  a  unique  and 
dominating  figure;  no  doubt  the  first  and  last  time  in 
which  a  villain  who  as  a  character  was  without  one  re 
deeming  quality  was  made  the  hero  of  the  gallery  gods. 

With  the  final  fall  of  the  curtain,  Hampstead  climbed 
to  his  dressing  room,  tired  but  gloriously  happy.  All  the 
company  knew  his  shame,  the  shame  of  being  an  amateur; 
but  all,  too,  knew  his  power,  the  power  of  a  man  who 
could  rise  to  emergency,  who  had  commanding  presence 
and  constructive  force. 

The  dressing  rooms  were  mere  partitions  open  at  the 
top,  so  that  everybody  could  hear  what  everybody  else  was 
saying,  or  could  have  heard,  if  only  they  had  stopped  to 
listen.  But  apparently  nobody  listened.  The  strain  was 


104  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

over,  and  everybody  talked  as  if  the  joy  were  in  the  talk 
ing  and  not  in  being  heard.  Yet  after  the  first  few 
minutes  of  excited  blowing-off  of  steam,  there  came  a  lull, 
as  if  all  had  stopped  for  breath  at  once. 

Into  this  lull,  Dick  Bordwell,  the  juvenile  man,  as  he 
wiped  the  grease  paint  from  his  face,  lifted  his  fine  tenor 
voice  in  the  first  half  of  a  queer  antiphonal  chant,  by 
inquiring  loudly  above  his  four  wooden  walls  toward  the 
common  ceiling  over  all : 

"  Who  is  the  greatest  leading  woman  on  the  American 
stage?" 

"  Louise  Harlan !  "  chanted  every  voice  on  the  floor, 
their  tones  mingling  merrily,  as  if  they  were  playing  a 
familiar  game. 

"  Right-o,"  sang  Dick,  and  chanted  next :  cf  Who  is 
the  greatest  leading  man  on  the  American  stage?  " 

"  Billie  Stanley!  "  chorused  the  voices,  with  shrieks  of 
laughter. 

"  And  who,"  inquired  Dick,  with  an  insinuating  change 
in  his  voice,  "who  is  the  greatest  juvenile  man  in 
America?  " 

"  Rich-a-r-r-r-d  Bordwell !  "  screamed  the  magpies. 

"  Right-o-right !  "  echoed  Dick,  with  a  grunt  of  im 
mense  satisfaction;  and  then  he  went  on  piping  his  in 
terrogatories,  as  to  the  rest  of  the  company,  desiring  to  be 
informed  who  was  the  greatest  character  old  man,  charac 
ter  old  lady,  soubrette,  light  comedian  and  stage  man 
ager,  concluding  yet  more  loudly  with : 

ff  And  who  is  the  greatest  amateur  heavy  on  the  Ameri 
can  stage?  " 

As  if  they  had  been  waiting  for  it,  the  voices  burst  out 
like  a  college  yell : 

"John  Hampstead!  John  Hampstead  is  the  greatest 
amateur  heavy  on  the  American  stage!" 

The  spirit  of  fun  and  hearty  good  will  with  which  this 


DEMONSTRATION  FROM  THE  GALLERY     105 

initiation  ceremony  had  been  performed  was  salve  to  the 
bruised,  excited  soul  of  John.  Besides  an  ever  present 
sense  of  meanness  and  hypocrisy  from  the  concealment  he 
had  practiced,  John  had  suffered  a  feeling  of  extreme 
loneliness  that  had  at  no  time  been  so  great  as  now,  when, 
the  strain  of  the  play  over,  all  these  children  of  the  stage 
were  romping  joyously  together.  Now  they  had  included 
him  in  the  circle  of  their  magic  fellowship.  True,  they 
had  used  the  hateful  word  amateur,  but  that  was  in  play, 
and  he  was  sure  they  would  never  use  it  again. 

And  he  was  right —  from  that  hour  some  of  them  who 
liked  him  showed  it ;  some  who  disliked  him  showed  that ; 
some  merely  revealed  themselves  as  cool  toward  him  or 
appeared  ill  at  ease  in  his  presence ;  but  never  one  of  them, 
by  word  or  act,  failed  from  that  moment  to  recognize  his 
standing  as  a  man  entitled  to  all  the  free  masonry  of 
their  unique  and  fascinating  profession. 

But  the  climax  of  this  climactic  night  for  John  was 
reached  when,  descending  the  stairway,  Halson  honored 
him  with  an  astounding  confidence. 

"  Marien  Dounay  joins  the  People's  to-morrow,"  he 
whispered  excitedly. 

"  Fact !  "  he  affirmed  in  response  to  John's  look  of  sheer 
incredulity.  "  She's  a  spitfire  and  a  genius.  She  can  do 
what  she  likes.  She's  quarreled  with  Mowrey.  She's 
coming  here  to  spite  him.  Pie  for  us  while  it  lasts,  huh  ? 
She  opens  as  Isabel  in  East  Lynne." 

John  knew  that  Mowrey  had  come  up  from  Los  Angeles 
and  was  just  opening  a  long  season  at  the  Grand  Opera 
House ;  but  Marien  Dounay  —  almost  a  star !  —  in  that 
thread-bare  play,  East  Lynne,  in  this  out-at-elbows  com 
pany,  and  in  this  old  barn  of  a  house!  Impossible! 

This  was  what  John  was  thinking,  but  he  was  too  weak 
to  give  it  utterance.  He  wanted  Halson's  information  to 
be  true  whether  it  was  or  not.  Yet  in  the  midst  of  the 


106  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

elation  which  began  to  kindle  swiftly,  he  remembered  what 
Halson  had  said  to  Neumeyer  on  Saturday  in  the  dark  of 
the  orchestra :  that  a  new  man  had  been  engaged  to  play 
the  heavies. 

A  wave  of  bitterness  surged  over  him;  and  yet,  he 
reflected,  things  must  be  changed.  They  would  scarcely 
let  him  go  after  to-night,  so  he  mustered  courage  to 
inquire : 

"  By  the  way,  Halson,  what  do  I  play  in  East  Lynnef  " 

"  You  play  the  lead,"  affirmed  Halson,  with  dramatic 
emphasis. 

"The  lead?"  John  gulped,  struggling  as  if  a  cobble 
stone  had  just  been  tossed  into  his  throat. 

"  Sure !  You'll  get  away  with  it,  too,"  declared  the 
stage  manager  with  over-enthusiasm,  slapping  John  heav 
ily  upon  the  back  as  the  big  man  turned  away  quickly, 
utterly  unwilling  that  any  save  two  or  three  not  there  to 
look  should  see  into  his  face. 

It  would  scarcely  have  diminished  his  joy  to  know  that 
he  was  getting  the  lead  simply  because  Archibald  Carlyle 
was  such  an  unredeemed  mollycoddle  that  the  leading  man 
usually  chose  to  enact  the  villain,  Levison. 


CHAPTER  X 

A   STAGE   KISS 

FOR  the  strange  freak  of  Miss  Marien  Dounay  in  join 
ing  The  People's  Stock  Company,  the  papers  found  ready 
explanation  in  artistic  temperament.  The  brilliant  young 
actress,  so  the  story  ran,  taking  umbrage  because  Miss 
Elsie  McCloskey,  twin  star  of  the  Mowrey  cast,  was 
chosen  to  play  a  part  for  which  Miss  Dounay  deemed  her 
self  specially  fitted,  had  resigned  in  a  huff;  and  thereupon, 
to  spite  Mowrey,  had  signed  with  this  obscure  stock  com 
pany  playing  a  dozen  blocks  away,  where  it  was  believed 
her  popularity  would  be  sufficient  to  punish  the  well-known 
manager  in  his  one  vulnerable  spot,  the  box-office. 

But  there  was  one  person  interested  who  did  not  care  a 
rap  why  Marien  Dounay  was  playing  Isabel  Carlyle,  the 
wife  of  Archibald  Carlyle  at  the  People's  Stock  this  week, 
in  the  time- frazzled  drama  of  East  Lynne,  and  that  was 
the  man  to  play  Archibald.  She  was  there,  and  that  was 
enough  for  him,  swimming  into  his  ken  at  the  first  re 
hearsal  like  a  vision  of  some  glory  too  entrancing  to  belong 
to  anything  but  a  dream. 

Had  she  changed  much  in  the  four  months  since  he 
had  held  her  in  his  arms  ?  Not  at  all,  unless  to  grow  more 
beautiful. 

Yet  if  that  crude  actor  fancied  himself  on  terms  of  more 
than  bare  acquaintance  with  this  exquisite  creature,  his 
imagination  presumed  too  far.  Miss  Dounay's  bearing 
made  it  instantly  apparent  that  she  gave  herself  airs.  One 
comprehensive  glance  was  bestowed  upon  the  semicircle 


io8  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

of  the  company.  Hampstead's  portion  was  more  and  less, 
a  look  and  a  nod.  The  nod  said :  "  I  know  you,  puppet." 
The  look  warned :  "  But  do  not  presume.  Stand." 

John  stood,  wondering.  As  rehearsals  progressed,  his 
wonder  grew  into  bewilderment.  Miss  Dounay  treated 
the  whole  company  cavalierly,  but  she  treated  him  disdain 
fully.  Her  feeling  for  the  others  was  simply  negative; 
for  him  it  appeared  to  be  positive. 

As  an  actress,  it  developed  that  she  was  "  up  "  in  the 
part  of  Isabel,  having  played  it  many  times.  She  had, 
moreover,  ideas  of  how  every  other  part  should  be  played 
and  was  pleased  to  express  them.  Nobody  protested,  Hal- 
son  least  of  all.  She  was  a  "  find  "  for  the  People's.  As 
a  director,  too,  Miss  Dounay  was  masterful.  A  languid 
glance,  a  single  word,  a  very  slight  intonation,  had  more 
force  than  one  of  Halson's  ranting  commands.  And  she 
was  instinctively  competent. 

Hampstead,  despite  his  own  sad  experience,  watched 
her  open-mouthed.  This  young  woman,  it  appeared,  was 
an  intellectual  force  as  well  as  a  magnetic  one.  She  cut 
speeches  or  interpolated  them,  altered  business,  and  in  one 
instance  rearranged  an  entire  scene,  while  in  another  she 
boldly  reconstructed  the  conclusion  of  an  act.  The  storm 
center  round  which  much  of  this  cutting,  slicing,  and  fat 
tening  took  place  was  Hampstead.  She  heckled  him  un 
mercifully  about  the  reading  of  his  lines,  ridiculed  his 
gestures,  and  badgered  him  to  madness. 

On  the  fourth  day  of  this,  John  moped  out  of  the 
theater,  head  down,  reflecting  bitterly  upon  the  illusory 
character  of  woman,  of  which  he  knew  so  little, — 
moped  so  slowly  that  Parks  overtook  him  on  the  first 
corner. 

"  This  woman  is  a  friend  of  yours,"  Parks  proposed 
tentatively. 

"  I  thought  she  was,"  sighed  Hampstead  weakly,  "  but 


A  STAGE  KISS  109 

she  keeps  cutting  my  speeches.  By  the  end  of  the  week,  I 
won't  have  any  part  left  at  all." 

Parks  indulged  a  self -satisfied  chuckle  at  the  keenness  of 
his  own  discernment. 

"  Don't  you  see,"  he  explained,  "  she's  cutting  the  stuff 
you  do  badly.  She  took  away  from  you  a  situation  in 
which  you  were  awkward  and  unreal.  She  changed  that 
scene  around  and  left  you  with  a  climax  in  which  you  are 
positively  graceful  as  well  as  forceful.  You'll  get  a  big 
hand  in  it.  She  studies  you.  I've  watched  her." 

"  Old  man,"  blurted  Hampstead,  with  sudden  fervor, 
"  it  would  make  me  the  happiest  man  in  the  world  if  I 
thought  that  you  were  right.  But  you  are  wrong,  and 
her  badgering  has  begun  to  get  on  my  nerves.  Say !  "  and 
he  interrupted  himself  to  ask  a  question  not  yet  answered 
to  his  satisfaction.  "Why  is  she  here?  —  with  the 
People's,  I  mean  ?  " 

"  You've  heard  the  stories,"  answered  Parks,  with  a 
shrug.  "  However,  I  doubt  if  it's  any  mere  whim.  She 
appears  to  me  to  have  a  cool,  good  reason  for  anything 
she  does." 

Parks  turns  off  at  Ninth  Street,  and  John  moved  on 
down  Market.  "  A  cold  good  reason  for  what  she  does," 
he  murmured.  "  What's  the  answer,  I  wonder,  to  what 
she  does  to  me?  " 

As  the  days  went  on,  John's  wonder  grew. 

Now  it  is  according  to  the  method  of  dramatists  that 
when  a  husband  is  to  be  abandoned  by  his  wife  in  the 
second  act  there  shall  be  certain  tender  passages  between 
the  two  in  the  first  act,  and  this  ancient  drama  was  no 
exception.  There  were  contacts,  handclasps,  embraces, 
kisses.  Through  all  of  these  at  rehearsal  time  the  two 
went  mechanically.  Miss  Dounay  apparently  treated 
Hampstead  with  mere  indifference,  but  actually  she  found 
a  thousand  little  ways  to  show  utter  repugnance.  After 


no  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

the  first  shock,  John's  combative  instinct  and  his  pride  led 
him  to  face  this  situation,  so  difficult  for  a  gentleman,  un 
flinchingly.  Taking  her  hands,  pressing  her  to  him,  pat 
ting  her  cheek,  playing  with  the  wisps  of  hair  upon  her 
temple,  he  conscientiously  rehearsed  the  part  of  the  affec 
tionate,  doting  husband.  His  very  sincerity,  it  would 
seem,  must  have  been  a  rebuke  to  the  woman.  She  must 
have  seen  that  his  heart  was  stirred  by  an  unexplained 
feeling  toward  her,  and  might  have  observed  in  his  deter 
mined  bearing  under  the  galling  fire  of  her  man-baiting 
something  noble. 

Here,  if  she  could  only  perceive  it,  was  a  man  who  had 
turned  his  back  on  at  least  one  of  the  kingdoms  of  this 
world  to  become  an  actor ;  a  man  who  would  endure  any 
thing,  suffer  anything  to  add  to  his  knowledge  and  skill  in 
that  difficult  and  all  demanding  art;  which,  indeed,  was 
why  he  laid  himself  open  to  her  polished  ridicule  by  over 
playing  every  scene,  overemphasizing  every  word,  over- 
expressing  every  gesture  and  emotion. 

But  she  never  relented,  not  even  on  the  night  of  the  first 
performance.  Instead  she  became  more  aggressive  in  her 
antagonism,  her  method  changing  from  subtle  scorn  to 
open  derision. 

Now  among  experienced  actors  there  are  a  great  many 
things  which  may  take  place  upon  the  stage  unsuspected  of 
the  audience.  On  this  night,  all  through  the  tender  ex 
changes  of  that  first  act,  Miss  Dounay  seized  upon  inter 
vals  when  her  back  was  to  the  front  to  throw  a  grimace  at 
John, —  to  do,  or  sotto  voce  to  say,  something  irritating  or 
ludicrous  that  would  throw  him  out  of  character,  or,  as 
the  profession  puts  it,  "  break  him  up."  John  steeled 
himself  against  all  of  this  and  went  on  playing  with  that 
dignity  of  earnestness  which  seemed  to  characterize  all 
his  life,  until  it  would  appear  the  climax  of  malice  was 
reached  when,  as  Miss  Dounay  hung  about  his  neck,  she 


A  STAGE  KISS  in 

laughed  in  the  midst  of  one  of  his  tenderest  speeches,  and 
whispered : 

"  There  is  a  daub  of  smut  on  the  end  of  your  nose." 

To  John  this  communication  was  an  arrow  poisoned  by 
the  subtle  power  of  suggestion.  Was  there  smut  upon  his 
nose?  If  there  were  and  he  touched  it  with  a  finger,  it 
would  smear  and  ruin  his  make-up.  If  he  did  not  remove 
it,  the  audience  would  observe  it  the  first  time  he  came 
down  stage  and  laugh.  On  the  other  hand,  he  did  not 
believe  that  there  was  smut  upon  his  nose.  How  could  it 
get  there  ?  In  no  way  unless  some  joker  had  doctored  the 
peephole  in  the  curtain  just  before  he  peered  out  at  the 
audience. 

Smutted  or  not  smutted?  To  touch  his  nose  or  let  it 
alone?  That  was  the  maddening  question.  The  puzzle 
and  the  doubt  disconcerted  him.  His  memory  faltered, 
his  tongue  stumbled,  and  a  feeling  of  awful  helplessness 
came  over  him.  He  was  breaking  up!  He  was  out  of 
character!  This  devilish  woman  had  succeeded.  She 
saw  it,  too.  John  read  the  exultation  in  her  eyes,  and  it 
filled  him  with  indignation  until  a  wave  of  wrath  surged 
over  his  great  frame  like  a  storm.  Miss  Dounay  saw  his 
eyes  grow  suddenly  stern  with  a  light  she  had  never  noticed 
in  them.  One  arm  was  encircling  her  in  a  caress,  the 
other  hand  rested  upon  her  shoulders.  For  one  instant 
she  felt  this  embrace  tighten  into  a  python  grip  that  was 
terrifying.  The  man's  position  had  not  changed.  To  the 
audience  it  was  still  a  mere  pose,  an  expression  of  endear 
ment. 

But  to  Marien  Dounay  it  was  an  ominous  hint  that  this 
great  amiable  child  had  in  him  the  primal  elements  of  a 
brutal  strength.  A  look  of  alarm  shot  into  her  face,  and 
she  whispered : 

"Don't,  John!     Don't." 

The  tone  of  her  voice  was  pleading.     She,  the  proud, 


H2  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

had  cringed.  She  had  called  him  John.  She  had  sur 
rendered. 

"  It  was  just  a  mean  little  fib,"  she  whispered,  and  for 
a  moment  clung  to  him  helplessly. 

John,  greatly  surprised,  was  not  too  much  surprised  to 
feel  the  exultant  surge  of  victory.  For  one  moment  he 
had  lost  control  of  himself,  but  in  that  moment  he  appeared 
to  have  gained  control  of  Marien. 

The  strangest  thing  was  that  Miss  Dounay  seemed 
rather  happy  about  it  herself;  and  the  wide  range  of  the 
woman's  capacity  was  revealed  by  her  swift  transition  to  a 
mood  of  purring  contentment  and  a  spirit  of  affectionate 
camaraderie  that  presently  reached  a  surprising  climax. 

The  act  ended  in  the  garden,  with  Isabel  seated  on  a 
rustic  bench,  and  Archibald  bending  over  her.  As  the 
curtain  descended,  he  was  to  stoop  and  print  a  kiss  of 
tenderest  respect  upon  her  forehead.  But  now,  as  the  cur 
tain  trembled,  Miss  Dounay  lifted  not  her  forehead  but  her 
lips,  and  held  them,  warm  and  clinging,  to  his  for  an  in 
stant  that  to  Hampstead  seemed  a  delicious,  thrilling  eter 
nity,  from  which  he  emerged  like  a  man  newborn. 

But  the  male  instinct  to  gloat  was  the  first  clear  thought. 

"  You  do  like  me,  don't  you  ?  "  he  breathed  exultantly, 
while  the  curtain  was  down  for  an  instant.  Marien 
answered  with  her  eyes  and  a  quick  affirmative  nod,  be 
fore  the  curtain  bounded  upward  again  for  a  last  picture 
of  husband  and  wife  gazing  into  each  other's  eyes  with  a 
look  expressing  an  infinitude  of  fondness.  But  John  had 
ceased  to  be  Archibald.  What  his  look  expressed  was  an 
infinitude  of  mystery  and  joy. 

"  And  they  say  there  is  no  satisfaction  in  a  stage  kiss !  " 
he  whispered  to  himself  as  he  leaped  up  the  stairs  to  his 
dressing  room. 


CHAPTER  XI 

SEED   TO   THE   WIND 

THE  next  night  Miss  Doimay  gave  John  her  forehead 
instead  of  her  lips  to  kiss,  but  she  heckled  him  no  more, 
and  it  was  perfectly  obvious  to  him,  as  to  Parks,  that  she 
helped  him  deliberately  and  had  been  helping  him  all  along 
by  her  stage  direction. 

"If  you've  got  her  interested  in  you,  you're  fixed  for 
life,"  grumbled  Parks  wistfully.  "  That  girl's  going  up 
the  line,  and  she's  got  stuff  enough  to  take  somebody  else 
with  her." 

There  was  a  suggestion  in  this  which  John  resented. 

"  I'm  going  up,  too,"  he  rejoined  with  the  defiant  ex 
uberance  of  youth,  "  but  on  my  own  steam." 

Parks  looked  at  John  up  and  down,  and  laughed, — 
just  that  and  nothing  more.  The  old  man's  frankness 
was  comforting  at  times;  at  others  disagreeable.  John 
moved  away  irritated,  and  his  head  went  up  into  the  clouds 
of  his  dreams.  But  there  was  something  in  what  Parks 
had  suggested  that  kept  coming  back  to  his  mind.  True, 
Miss  Dounay  never  exchanged  more  than  the  merest 
words  of  courtesy  with  John  off  the  stage.  But  on  the 
stage  and  at  rehearsal  it  really  did  seem  as  if  there  was  a 
very  nice  little  understanding  growing  up  between  them. 

Off  stage  John  dreamed  of  going  to  call  upon  her.  In 
his  little  room  he  thought  of  her  much  and  hungrily. 
That  he  should  think  hungrily  was  not  strange,  since  he 
was  hungry.  His  salary  was  twenty  dollars  a  week.  To 
send  half  to  Rose,  and  save  money  to  meet  his  wardrobe 


H4  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

bills,  he  lived  on  two  meals  a  day.  The  morning  meal, 
taken  at  half-past  nine,  consisted  of  coffee  and  cakes,  and 
cost  ten  cents.  The  evening  meal  was  taken  at  half -past 
five.  It  was  a  grand  course  dinner  that  went  from  soup 
to  pie,  and  its  cost  was  fifteen  cents.  The  tip  to  the 
waitress  was  a  smile. 

When  one  goes  supperless  to  bed,  dreams  come  lightly 
and  are  fantastic.  John's  dreams  were  of  banqueting 
after  the  play  with  Marien  Dounay.  Greenroom  gossip 
had  it  that  Marien  lived  royally  but  in  modest  thrift; 
that  her  French  maid,  Julie,  was  also  cook  and  house 
keeper;  that  Marien's  disposition  was  domestic  and  yet 
convivial.  That  instead  of  a  supper  down  town  in  one 
of  the  brilliant  cafes,  she  preferred  the  seclusion  of  her 
small  but  cozy  apartment,  and  the  triumphs  of  Julie  at  a 
tiny  gas  grill,  supplemented  and  glorified  by  her  own 
skill  with  the  chafing  dish.  That  there  wrere  nights  when 
she  supped  alone,  but  others  when  a  lady  or  two,  or  much 
more  likely  a  gentleman,  or  mayhap  two  gentlemen  were 
honored  with  invitations  to  this  feast  of  goddesses;  for 
tiny,  efficient,  ambidextrous  Julie  was  in  her  way  as  much 
of  an  aristocrat  as  her  mistress,  and  as  skillful  in  im 
parting  the  suggestion  that  she-  was  herself  of  some  su 
perior  clay.  Subject  to  the  whims  of  her  mistress,  she, 
too,  had  whims,  and  made  men  —  and  women  —  not  only 
respect  but  admire  them.  Rumor  said  that  if  an  invitation 
to  one  of  these  midnight  revels  with  toothsome  food 
under  the  personal  direction  of  this  flashing  beauty  ever 
came,  it  was  on  no  account  to  be  despised,  especially  if  a 
man  were  hungry  either  for  beauty  or  for  food. 

John  Hampstead  was  hungry  for  food,  and  now  he 
began  to  feel  hungry  also  for  beauty.  This  last  was 
really  a  new  appetite.  John,  through  all  his  struggling 
years,  had  of  course  his  thoughts  of  woman  as  all  men 
have,  but  vaguely,  as  something  a  long  way  off,  in- 


SEED  TO'  THE  WIND  115 

definitely  postponed.  Yet  ever  since  he  carried  Lygia 
in  his  arms,  these  thoughts  of  woman  had  been  recurring 
as  something  nearer,  more  tangible,  and  more  necessary 
even.  As  for  that  kiss  in  the  garden  scene  of  East 
Lynne!  Well,  there  was  something  wonderfully  awak 
ening  in  that  kiss.  It  was  worlds  different  from  that 
brotherly,  sympathetic  little  kiss  he  had  given  Bessie  yon 
der  upon  the  rocks. 

By  the  way, —  why  did  Bessie  cry  ?  He  used  to  won 
der  sometimes  why  she  did!  And  why  did  Marien 
Dounay  taunt  him  till  he  was  angry  enough  to  beat  her, — 
and  then  kiss  him? 

Women  were  hard  to  understand.  They  seemed  to 
do  things  that  had  no  meaning ;  to  use  words  not  to  con 
vey  but  to  conceal  thought;  and  they  spoke  half  their 
speeches  in  riddles.  However,  John  reflected  that  when 
he  had  been  with  women  more,  he  would  know  them 
better.  And  in  the  meantime  he  supplemented  his  pro 
fessional  contacts  with  Marien  by  thinking  of  her  con 
stantly,  even  to  the  point  where  his  absorbing  interest 
led  him  to  follow  her  home  at  night  after  the  play, — 
keeping  always  at  a  safe  distance  behind, —  and  to  stand 
across  the  street  and  watch  till  the  light  went  on  in  that 
third-story  bay-window  on  Turk  Street  near  Mason ;  and 
then  still  to  stand,  trying  to  interpret  the  meaning  of 
shadows  moving  across  the  window  for  uncounted  hours, 
till  the  light  went  out,  sometimes  at  two  and  sometimes 
later,  or  until  a  policeman  bade  him  move  on.  If  any 
one  had  told  John  that  he  was  falling  in  love  with  Marien 
Dounay,  he  would  have  indignantly  rejected  the  idea. 
She  held  a  fascinating  interest  for  him, —  that  was  all. 
Something  basic  in  him  was  attracted  by  something  basic 
in  her,  and  he  yielded  to  it  wonderingly,  experimentally 
almost,  and  that  was  all  it  amounted  to. 

But  on  the  night  that  Miss  Dounay  completed  her  en- 


n6  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

gagement  at  the  People's,  for  her  tiff  with  Mowrey  was 
over  in  just  four  weeks,  the  opportunity  came  to  John  to 
submit  his  feelings  to  more  searching  experimentation. 

It  had  been  his  custom  to  wait  in  the  shadowy  wings 
each  night  to  see  the  object  of  his  solicitous  interest  de 
part,  supposing  himself  always  to  be  unobserved.  But 
on  this  last  night  Marien  surprised  him  into  nervous  thrills 
by  walking  over  into  the  shadow  with  the  cool  assurance 
of  an  autocrat,  and  saying : 

"  Come  home  to  supper  with  me,  John/' 

At  the  same  time  Miss  Dounay  took  the  big  man's  arm 
as  comfortably  as  if  the  matter  had  been  arranged  the 
week  before  last,  and  John  walked  out  as  if  on  air,  but 
hurriedly.  That  soft  touch  upon  his  arm  made  him 
hungry  with  indescribable  anticipations.  Moreover,  he 
was  stirred  by  an  itching  curiosity  concerning  the  whole 
of  the  intimate  personal  life  of  Marien  Dounay.  Who 
was  she  ?  What  was  she  ?  How  was  she  ? 

Yet  on  the  very  threshold  of  the  little  apartment,  his 
sense  of  what  was  conventional  in  the  world  out  of  which 
he  had  come  halted  him. 

"  Should  I  ?  "  he  asked  huskily,  as  the  door  stood 
open.  "  Would  it  be  —  proper  ?  " 

"  Most  particularly  proper,  innocent !  "  laughed  Marien. 
"  At  the  theater  Julie  is  my  maid ;  at  home  she  is  my 
housekeeper,  my  social  secretary,  my  companion,  and 
chaperone." 

While  the  light  of  reassurance  kindled  on  John's  face, 
Marien  gently  drew  him  inside. 

"  Behold !  "  she  exclaimed  with  a  stage  gesture,  when 
the  door  was  closed  behind  him.  "  My  temporary  home ; 
my  balcony  window  overlooking  the  street,  my  alcove 
wherein  I  sleep,  the  kitchenette  in  which  we  cook;  be 
hind  that  the  bath,  and  back  of  that  Julie's  own  room. 
Isn't  it  dear?" 


SEED  TO  THE  WIND  117 

"  Dear ! "  That  was  a  woman's  word.  Bessie  said 
that  about  her  invitation  paper  for  the  Phrosos. 

"  Dear?"  he  breathed,  comparing  it  in  one  swift  esti 
mating  glance  to  his  own  barren  cell.  "  It's  a  para 
dise!" 

"  So  much  more  seclusion  than  in  hotels,"  declared 
Marien,  and  then  went  on  to  say  in  that  sort  of  tone 
which  belongs  to  an  air  of  frank  and  simple  comrade 
ship  :  "  So  much  less  expensive,  too.  Do  you  know 
what  saves  a  girl  in  this  business  ?  Money !  Ready 
money.  And  do  you  know  what  ruins  her?  Extrava 
gance  —  debt.  We  are  very  economical,  Julie  and  I. 
We  have  what  crooks  call  '  fall  money ',  laid  by  for  any 
emergency.  That's  what  you'll  need  to  do.  Save  half 
your  salary  every  week.  There'll  be  weeks  you  don't 
play,  weeks  when  you  have  to  go  to  expense.  You  may 
be  ill  or  have  an  accident,  or  your  company  will  close  un 
expectedly.  Save.  Save  your  money !  " 

Marien  uttered  these  bits  of  practical  wisdom,  which 
were  to  John  the  revelation  of  an  unthought-of  side  of 
this  exquisite  young  woman's  character  while  she  was 
conducting  him  toward  the  window. 

"  Sit  here,"  she  commanded.  "  Look  straight  down 
Turk.  See  the  lights  battling  with  the  fog.  Listen  to 
the  waning  music  of  the  night  in  this  noisy,  cobbly,  clangy 
city.  Don't  turn  your  head  till  I  say !  " 

The  lights  were  indeed  beautiful,  each  with  its  halo 
of  mist.  The  clanging  bells  of  cars,  and  even  the  horrible 
squeak  of  the  wheels  as  they  turned  a  curve,  with  the 
low  singing  of  the  cables  that  drew  them,  did  rise  up 
like  the  orchestration  of  some  strange  new  motif  of  the 
night  that  lulled  him  till  he  was  only  faintly  conscious 
of  the  opening  and  closing  of  doors  and  a  rustling  at  the 
other  end  of  the  room. 

"  Now ! "  called  the  voice  of  Marien  cheerily,  awaken- 


n8  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

ing  him  with  a  sudden  thrill  to  the  realization  of  her 
presence. 

She  stood  at  the  far  end  of  the  room,  surveying  her 
self  in  a  long  mirror.  Her  figure  was  draped  rather 
than  dressed  in  a  silken,  shimmering  texture  of  black, 
splashed  with  great  red  conventional  flowers.  The  gar 
ment  flowed  loosely  at  neck,  sleeves,  and  waist,  and  the 
fabric  was  corrugated  by  a  succession  of  narrow,  ver 
tical,  unstitched  pleats,  which  gave  an  illusory  effect  of 
yielding  to  every  movement  of  the  sinuous  body  and  yet 
clinging  the  closer  while  it  yielded.  As  John  gazed, 
Marien  belted  this  flowing  drapery  at  the  waist  with  a 
knot  of  tiny  crimson  cord,  and  then  released  her  coils 
of  rich  dark  hair  so  that  they  fell  to  her  hips  in  a  flutter 
ing  cascade  as  silky  as  the  texture  of  her  robe. 

When  she  advanced  to  him,  the  shimmering,  billowy 
movements  of  the  gown  matched  the  rhythmic  sway  of  her 
limbs  as  completely  as  the  red  splashes  upon  it  matched 
the  color  of  her  cheeks.  She  came  laughing  softly,  and 
bearing  in  her  hand  a  pair  of  tiny  red  and  gold  slippers. 

A  low  divan  ran  along  one  side  of  the  room,  piled 
high  with  gay  cushions.  Near  the  foot  of  it  was  a  Roman 
chair. 

"  Sit  here/'  said  Marien,  indicating  the  chair ;  and 
John,  as  if  obeying  stage  directions,  complied,  while  his 
hostess  sank  back  luxuriously  amid  the  cushions  and  by 
the  same  movement  presented  a  slim,  neatly  booted  foot 
upon  the  edge  of  the  divan,  so  very  near  to  the  big  man's 
hand  as  to  embarrass  him.  At  the  same  time  she  held 
up  the  slippers  to  his  notice  and  observed  with  a  nod  to 
ward  the  boot : 

"  As  a  mark  of  special  favor." 

For  a  moment  John's  face  reddened,  and  he  looked  the 
awkwardness  of  his  state  of  mind,  his  eyes  shifting  from 
the  boot  to  Marien's  face  and  back  again. 


SEED  TO  THE  WIND  119 

Her  face  took  on  an  amused  smile,  and  the  boot  wiggled 
suggestively. 

"  Oh,"  exclaimed  John,  blushing  with  fresh  confusion 
at  his  own  dullness  as  he  bent  forward  and  began  to 
struggle  with  the  buttons  of  the  boot. 

"  You  see,"  he  explained  presently,  still  worrying  with 
the  combination  of  the  first  button,  "you  see  —  well,  I 
guess  I  don't  know  women  very  well." 

Marien  laughed  happily. 

"  Stage  women !  "  John  added,  as  if  by  an  afterthought. 

"  Stage  women,"  affirmed  Marien  loyally,  "  are  no  dif 
ferent  from  other  women  —  only  wiser."  Then  she 
tagged  her  speech  sententiously  with,  "  They  have  to  be. 
Careful!  You  will  tear  the  buttons  off.  And  you  — 
you  are  pinching  me !  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  stammered  John.  "  But  there 
are  so  very  many  of  these  buttons." 

After  an  interval  during  which  Marien  had  appeared 
to  watch  his  labors  with  amused  interest,  she  asked,  with 
mocking  humor : 

"Are  you  hurrying  or  delaying?  I  can't  quite  make 
out." 

But  John  was  by  this  time  enjoying  the  to  him  novel 
situation,  and  merely  chuckled  happily  in  reply  to  this 
thrust.  When  the  shoes  were  off,  by  a  mystifying  move 
ment  Marien  snuggled  first  one  stockinged  foot  and  then 
the  other  into  the  gold  embroidered  slippers  and  with  a 
sigh  of  contentment  appeared  to  float  among  her  pillows, 
while  she  contemplated  with  smiling  attention  the  face  of 
Hampstead.  Presently  she  asked  smiling: 

"  Are  you  a  man  or  a  boy,  I  wonder  ?  " 

Feeling  himself  drifting  farther  and  farther  under  the 
personal  spell  of  this  magnetic  woman,  and  entirely  will 
ing  to  be  enthralled,  John  answered  her  only  with  his 
eyes. 


120  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  That's  the  Ursus  look,"  she  laughed  softly,  as  if  it 
pleased  her. 

A  silver  cigarette  case  was  on  a  tabaret  within  reach  of 
her  hand. 

"  Have  a  cigarette !  "  she  proposed. 

John  declined,  a  trifle  embarrassed  by  the  proffer.  Miss 
Dounay  lighted  one  and  puffed  a  small  halo  above  her 
head  before  she  looked  across  at  him  again  and  asked 
quizzically : 

"You  do  not  smoke?" 

"  And  I  do  not  think  women  should,"  Hampstead  re 
plied,  with  level  eyes. 

"  It  is  a  horrid  habit,"  she  confessed,  "  but  this  busi 
ness  will  drive  women  to  do  horrid  things.  Listen, 
Hampstead.  It's  hard  for  a  man ;  you've  found  that  out, 
and  you're  only  beginning.  It's  harder  for  a  woman; 
the  despairs,  the  disappointments,  the  bitter  lonelinesses, 
—  the  beasts  of  men  one  meets !  But  — "  With  a  shrug 
of  her  shoulders  she  suddenly  broke  off  her  train  of 
thought,  and  turning  an  inquiring  glance  on  Hampstead 
asked : 

"  You  never  smoked  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  confessed  John,  "  but  I  quit  it.  I  decided 
it  would  not  be  good  for  me." 

She  regarded  him  narrowly,  and  asked : 

"  You  would  not  do  a  thing  which  did  not  appear  good 
for  you  ?  " 

There  was  just  a  little  accent  on  the  "  good." 

"  I  have  tried  to  calculate  my  resources,"  John  con 
fessed,  resenting  that  accent. 

Again  Miss  Dounay  contemplated  him  in  silence. 

"  You  are  a  singularly  calculating  young  man,  I  should 
say,"  she  decreed  finally.  "  And  how  long,  may  I  ask, 
have  you  been  living  this  calculating  life?  " 

Marien  was  making  a  play  upon  his  word  "  calculate." 


SEED  TO  THE  WIND  121 

"  Seven  years,  I  should  say,"  replied  John,  thinking 
back. 

"  Seven  years  ?  "  she  mused.  "  Seven !  And  you  feel 
that  it  has  paid?" 

"  Immensely,"  replied  John  aggressively. 

"  By  the  way,  how  old  are  you,  Ursus  ?  " 

This  was  what  the  old  actor  had  asked.  People  were 
always  asking  John  how  old  he  was. 

"  Twenty-five,"  John  answered  a  trifle  apologetically. 
"  I  got  started  late.  And  you?  " 

The  question  was  put  without  hesitation,  as  if  it  were 
the  next  thing  to  say. 

"  A  man  does  not  ask  a  woman  her  age  in  polite  con 
versation,"  suggested  Marien  tentatively. 

"  He  does  not,"  replied  John  quickly,  "  if  he  thinks  the 
answer  is  likely  to  be  embarrassing." 

Marien's  face  flushed  with  pleasure. 

"  Oh,  hear  him !  "  she  laughed.  "  This  heavy  man  is 
not  so  heavy,  after  all;  but,"  she  added,  with  another  in 
sinuating  inflection,  "  he  is  always  calculating."  Then 
she  went  on,  "  You  are  right.  The  confession  to  you  at 
least  is  not  embarrassing.  I  am  twenty-four  years  old, 
and  I,  too,  have  been  living  a  calculating  life  for  seven 
years." 

"  For  seven  years.  How  odd !  "  remarked  John,  rather 
excited  at  discovering  even  a  slight  parallel  between  him 
self  and  this  brilliant  creature. 

"  Yes,"  Marien  replied.  "  I  ran  away  from  home  at 
sixteen.  I  have  been  on  the  stage  eight  years.  The 
first  year  was  a  careless  one.  The  other  seven  have  been 
—  calculating  years." 

John  could  think  of  no  words  in  which  to  describe  the 
sinister  significance  which  Marien  now  managed  to  get 
into  her  drawling  utterance  of  that  word  "  calculating." 
She  made  it  express  somehow  the  plotting  villainies  of  an 


122  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

lago,  of  a  Richard  the  Third  and  a  Lady  Macbeth,  and 
then  overlaid  the  sinister  note  with  something  else,  an  im 
pression  of  lofty  abandon,  of  immolation,  as  if,  in  cal 
culating  her  life,  she  had  laid  upon  the  altar  all  there  was 
of  herself  —  everything  —  in  order  to  attain  some  su 
preme  end. 

John,  staring  at  her,  got  a  sudden  intuitive  gleam  of 
a  woman  who  was  not  only  ambitious  as  he  was  ambitious, 
but  wildly,  dangerously  ambitious,  with  a  danger  that 
was  not  to  herself  alone,  but  to  any  who  stood  near 
enough  to  be  trampled  on  as  she  climbed  upward, —  dan 
gerous  to  one  who  might  love  her,  for  example ! 

He  got  the  thought  clearly  in  his  mind,  too;  yet  only 
for  a  moment,  and  to  be  crowded  out  immediately  by 
another  thought,  or  indeed,  a  succession  of  thoughts,  all 
induced  by  the  picture  she  made  amid  her  cushions. 

How  beautiful  she  was!  How  very,  very  beautiful! 
And  how  magnetic!  How  she  had  made  the  blood  run 
in  his  veins  when  she  lay  upon  his  breast  as  Lygia,  their 
hearts  beating,  their  souls  stirring  together ! 

And  now  she  had  resigned  herself  for  an  hour  to  his 
company,  had  given  him  her  confidence,  was  awaiting,  as 
it  seemed,  his  pleasure, —  while  the  color  came  and  went 
in  her  cheeks,  while  subdued  lights  danced  in  the  dark 
pools  beneath  lazily  drooping  lashes,  and  the  filmy  gown 
which  sheathed  her  body  stirred  with  every  breath  as  if  a 
part  of  her  very  self. 

Lying  there  like  this,  her  presence  ceased  soon  to  in 
duce  thoughts  and  began  to  stimulate  impulses.  Hamp- 
stead  longed  to  reach  out  and  lay  a  hand  upon  her.  She 
was  so  alluring  and  so,  so  helpless. 

For  weeks  now  he  had  allowed  himself  to  dream  of 
her  as  possibly  the  woman  of  his  destiny, —  not  admitting 
it,  but  still  dreaming  it.  Here  in  his  presence,  she  sud 
denly  ceased  to  be  even  a  woman.  She  was  just  Woman ; 


SEED  TO  THE  WIND  123 

and  the  primal  attraction  of  the  elemental  man  is  not  for 
the  woman.  Fundamentally,  it  is  just  for  woman.  And 
here  was  Woman,  the  whole  race  of  woman,  beautiful, 
bewitching,  compulsive. 

An  odor  began  to  float  in  from  the  kitchenette,  an  odor 
that  was  not  of  coffee  and  cakes,  nor  of  grease  upon  the 
top  of  a  range  in  a  dirty  little  restaurant.  It  was  savory 
and  fragrant,  and  it  filled  his  nostrils.  It  reminded  him 
of  all  the  appetizing  meals  he  had  ever  eaten.  It  made 
him  hungry  with  all  the  hungers  he  had  ever  known ;  his 
brain  was  reeling ;  he  was  going  to  faint, —  and  with  mere 
appetite.  Yet  the  appetite  was  not  for  food. 

With  a  kind  of  shock  he  recognized  the  nature  of  his 
appetite.  The  shock  passed;  but  the  hunger  remained. 
John  felt  that  he  himself  was  somehow  changed.  He 
was  not  the  Chairman  of  the  Prayer  Meeting  Committee 
of  the  Christian  Endeavor  Society,  not  a  Deacon  of  the 
grand  old  First  Church.  He  was  instead  the  man  that 
the  Reverend  Charles  Thompson  Campbell  feared  for  and 
prayed  for.  He  was  the  man  whose  heavy  ridged  brows 
had  indicated  to  the  shrewd  old  actor  a  nature  packed  full 
of  racial  dynamite. 

And  Woman  was  fulminating  the  dynamite.  Delib 
erately  —  or  recklessly  —  or  innocently ;  but  none  the  less 
surely.  Her  lips  were  pliant.  Her  form  was  plastic.  The 
smouldering  light  in  the  eyes,  the  lashes  drooping  lazily, 
the  witchery  of  a  dark  tress  which  coiled  upon  the  white 
soft  shoulder,  all  combined  in  the  appeal  of  physical 
charm.  To  this,  Woman  added  the  subtle,  madden 
ing  witchery  of  silence, —  breathing,  watchful,  waiting 
quiet. 

This  silence  continued  until  it  became  oppressive,  explo 
sive  even. 

Would  she  not  speak  ?  He  could  not.  Would  she  not 
move  ?  He  dared  not. 


124  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

As  if  in  response  to  this  frenzy  of  thought,  the  ripe  lips 
parted  in  a  smile  that  added  one  more  lovely  detail  to  the 
picture  by  revealing  rows  of  pearly,  even  teeth,  and  her 
hand  began  to  move  toward  him. 

"  Don't  touch  me  —  don't,"  he  found  himself  pleading 
suddenly. 

But  already  the  hand  was  laid  tenderly  upon  his  own, 
and  Hampstead  returned  the  clasp  like  one  who  holds  the 
poles  of  a  battery  and  cannot  let  go. 

Laughing  softly,  Woman  drew  Man  gently  to  her,  his 
eyes  gazing  fascinated  into  the  depths  of  hers,  his  body 
bending  weakly,  nearer  and  nearer. 

"  John!  "  she  breathed  softly,  "  John!  " 

But  at  the  first  warmth  of  breath  upon  his  cheek,  the 
explosion  came.  He  snatched  her  in  his  arms  as. if  she 
had  been  a  child,  and  pressed  her  to  his  heart  rapturously, 
but  violently.  And  then  his  lips  found  hers,  vehemently, 
almost  brutally,  as  if  he  would  take  revenge  upon  them 
for  the  passion  their  sight  and  touch  had  roused  in  him. 
She  struggled,  but  he  pressed  her  tighter  and  tighter,  till 
at  length  she  gave  up,  and  he  felt  only  the  rhythmic  pul 
sing  of  her  body. 

When  at  length  he  released  the  lips  and  held  the  face 
from  him  to  gaze  into  it  fondly,  her  eyes  were  closed,  and 
the  head  fell  limply  over  his  arm  with  the  long  tresses 
sweeping  to  the  floor. 

In  sudden  compunction  he  placed  her  tenderly  upon 
the  divan. 

"  I  have  hurt  you,  Marien ;  I  have  hurt  you.  Forgive 
me ;  oh,  forgive  me !  "  he  implored  in  tones  of  deep  feel 
ing. 

When  she  remained  quite  motionless,  he  asked,  fool 
ishly,  "  Marien,  have  you  fainted  ?  " 

Slowly  her  bosom  rose  with  a  respiration  so  deep  and 
long  that  it  seemed  to  stir  every  fold  of  her  pleated  gown 


SEED  TO  THE  WIND  125 

and  every  cushion  on  the  divan,  while  with  the  eyes  still 
closed  the  face  moved  gently  from  side  to  side  to  convey 
the  negative. 

*  "  Thank  God !  "  he  groaned,  dropping  to  his  knees  be 
side  her,  where,  seizing  her  hand,  he  began  to  press  his 
kisses  upon  it. 

Presently  disengaging  the  hand,  Marien  lifted  it,  felt 
her  way  over  his  face  and  began  to  push  back  the  towsled 
mop  of  hair  from  his  brow,  and  to  stroke  it  affection 
ately. 

"  I  thought  I  had  hurt  you,"  he  crooned. 

"  You  did,"  she  murmured. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so,  so  sorry,"  he  breathed,  seizing  her  hand 
once  more  and  pressing  it  against  his  heart. 

"  I  do  not  think  I  am  sorry,"  she  sighed  contentedly, 
and  was  still  again,  the  lashes  lying  flat  upon  her  cheeks, 
the  long  tresses  in  disarray  about  her  head. 

Lying  there  so  white  and  motionless,  she  looked  to  John 
like  a  crushed  flower.  Her  very  beauty  was  broken.  As 
he  gazed,  remorse  and  contrition  overcoming  him,  her  lips 
parted  in  a  half  smile  while  she  whispered : 

"  The  —  the  calculated  life  cannot  always  be  depended 
upon,  can  it  ?  " 

Innocently  spoken,  the  words  came  to  John  with  the 
force  of  a  reproach,  which  hurt  all  the  more  because  he 
was  sure  no  reproach  had  been  meant.  She  had  trusted 
him,  and  he  had  failed.  His  sense  of  guilt  was  already 
strong.  At  the  words  he  leaped  up  and  rushed  toward 
the  hat-tree  upon  which  his  hat  and  coat  had  been  dis 
posed.  Yet  before  he  could  seize  them  and  start  for  the 
door,  Marien  was  before  him,  barring  his  way,  looking 
pale  but  majestic,  like  a  disheveled  queen. 

"  Let  me  go,"  he  said  stubbornly.  "  I  am  unworthy  to 
be  here." 

"  Stay,"  she  whispered,  in  a  tone  sweeter,  tenderer, 


126  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

than  he  had  ever  heard  her  use  before.    "  It  is  my  wish.    I 
do  not,"  and  she  hesitated  for  a  word,  "  I  do  not  misun 
derstand  you  —  poor,  lonely,  hungry  man !  " 
"  Supper,  Madame !  "  piped  the  voice  of  Julie. 


CHAPTER  XII 

A   THING   INCALCULABLE 

ONE  whole  month  passed  before  John  sat  again  at  mid 
night  in  the  Roman  chair  with  Marien  vis-a-vis  upon  her 
heaped-up  cushions.  Many  things  may  happen  in  a 
month.  Many  did  in  this.  For  John  it  was  a  month  of 
progress  in  his  art.  Though  the  People's  Stock  Company 
had  passed  out  of  existence  within  two  weeks  after  Marien 
Dounay's  departure  from  it,  John  had  done  so  well  that 
he  found  no  difficulty  in  securing  an  engagement  as  heavy 
man  across  the  bay  in  Oakland  with  the  Sampson  Stock, 
the  grade  of  which  was  higher  and  its  permanency  well 
established. 

It  was  also  a  month  of  progress  in  his  passion  for 
Marien  Dounay,  although  during  all  those  thirty  days 
he  did  not  see  her  once.  In  the  meantime  imagination 
fed  him.  Every  memory  of  that  night  and  every  deduc 
tion  from  those  memories  fanned  the  flame  of  his  infatua 
tion.  Each  in  itself  was  slight,  but  they  were  like  a  thou 
sand  gossamer  webs.  Once  spun,  their  combined  holding 
power  was  as  the  strength  of  many  cables. 

Take,  for  instance,  the  environment  in  which  he  found 
her.  It  spoke  gratifyingly  to  him  of  a  genuinely  good, 
modest  nature  to  see  that  she  shrank  away  from  the  garish 
theatrical  hotels  to  this  quiet  nest  with  Julie.  It  revealed 
a  true  woman's  instinct  for  domesticity  not  only  surviving 
but  flourishing  in  this  vagabond  life  to  which  her  pro 
fession  compelled  her. 

And  yet  how  unlike  the  life  of  the  fine  women  he  had 
known  in  the  old  First  Church.  It  would  have  so  shocked 


128  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

them, —  this  roving,  Bohemian  life  that  turned  the  night 
into  day,  the  deep-sleep  time  from  twelve  to  three  into 
the  leisure,  happy,  carefree  hours  that  were  like  the  sun 
at  noon  instead  of  the  dark  of  midnight.  How  unbe 
coming  it  would  have  been  in  those  coddled  home-keep 
ing  women  of  the  First  Church,  this  reversal  of  life, — 
how  immoral  even!  Yet  to  her  it  was  natural.  In  her 
it  was  moral.  It  did  pay  a  proper  respect  to  those  con 
ventions  which  protect  the  character  and  happiness  of 
woman.  It  was  not  prudish.  It  was  better  than  prudish, 
it  was  good.  Her  virtue  was  not  forced.  It  was  hardy, 
indigenous,  self-enveloping.  Yes,  this  whole  mode  of 
life  became  her  in  her  profession. 

And  the  thought  that  he  was  of  her  profession  threw 
him  into  raptures.  Hers  was  a  life  into  which  he  could 
enter, —  had  entered  already,  by  reason  of  the  favor  she 
had  shown  him.  What  could  that  favor  mean  ?  Nothing 
else  but  love.  She  had  given  him  too  much,  forgiven  him 
too  much  in  that  one  evening  for  him  to  question  that  at 
all. 

And  he  loved  her !  Doubt  on  that  score  had  vanished 
so  many  days  ago  that  he  could  not  remember  he  had  ever 
doubted  it. 

That  the  partnership  could  not  at  first  be  equal,  he  was 
humiliatingly  aware ;  but  the  development  of  his  own  pow 
ers  would  soon  balance  the  inequality.  However,  it  was 
something  else  that  for  the  moment  wiped  out  of  mind  the 
enormity  of  his  presumption,  and  this  was  that  memory 
of  unpleasant  experiences  at  which  she  had  hinted.  The 
thought  of  this  beautiful,  ambitious,  devoted  creature 
battling  her  way  alone  among  selfish,  brutal,  designing 
men  was  maddening  to  him.  The  chivalrous  impulse  to 
be  with  her,  to  protect  her,  to  battle  for  her,  made  him 
forget  entirely  considerations  of  inequality,  and  he  pre 
pared  to  offer  himself  boldly.  If  she  did  not  invite  him 


A  THING  INCALCULABLE  129 

again  soon,  he  meant  to  seek  her  out;  but  the  invitation 
came  before  his  processes  had  reached  that  stage. 

John  was  impatiently  prompt.  His  eyes  leaped  upon 
her  eagerly  as  if  to  make  sure  she  was  still  real,  still  the 
flesh  and  blood  confirmation  of  his  passion.  She  was, — 
not  a  doubt  of  it.  Her  eye  was  bright;  the  clasp  of  her 
hand  was  warm.  Her  personal  power  was  never  more 
evident,  its  whimsical  manifestations  never  more  varied, 
interesting,  or  captivating  than  now. 

To  John,  no  longer  quite  so  hungry,  for  his  salary  was 
larger  now,  that  supper  was  not  so  much  a  meal  as  a  series 
of  delightful  additions  to  his  impressions  of  the  finer 
side  of  the  character  of  Marien.  But  with  the  supper 
despatched,  and  his  beautiful  hostess  again  lolling  in  lux 
urious  relaxation,  it  was  her  personality  once  more  rather 
than  her  character  which  began  to  play  upon  him  like  an 
instrument  with  strings.  Lazily  she  brooded  and  mused, 
talked  and  was  silent,  drifting  from  momentary  vivacities 
to  periods  of  depressed  abstraction.  Again  and  again 
John  felt  her  eyes  upon  him  scrutinizingly,  estimatingly 
almost,  it  seemed  to  him.  Because  it  was  a  supremely 
blissful  experience  to  submit  himself  thus  to  the  play  of 
her  moods,  John  postponed  the  declaration  he  felt  im 
pelled  to  make  until  it  burst  from  him  irresistibly,  like  a 
geyser. 

"  Listen ! "  he  broke  out  excitedly,  and  began  to  pour 
out  impetuously  the  tale  of  his  swiftly  ripened  infatua 
tion. 

Marien  did  listen  at  first  as  if  surprised,  and  then  with 
a  flush  of  pleasure  that  steadily  deepened  on  her  cheeks. 
Even  when  he  had  concluded  she  sat  for  a  moment  with 
lips  half  parted,  eyes  half  closed,  and  an  expression  of  en 
chantment  upon  her  face  as  if  listening  to  music  that  she 
wished  might  flow  on  forever. 

"  Do  not  speak !  "  John  protested  suddenly,  as  her  ex- 


130  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

pression  appeared  to  change.  "  The  picture  is  too  beau 
tiful  to  spoil.  Let  me  take  from  your  lips  in  silence  the 
kiss  that  seals  our  betrothal." 

But  Marien  held  him  off  with  sudden  strength. 

"  Marien,  I  love  you.  I  love  you,"  he  protested  vehe 
mently. 

"  No,"  Marien  replied,  lifting  herself  higher  amid  the 
pillows  and  speaking  alertly  as  if  she  had  just  been  given 
words  to  answer.  "  You  do  not  love  me.  You  love  the 
thing  you  think  I  am." 

John's  blond  brows  were  lifted  in  mute  protest. 

"  Listen !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  You  compelled  me  to  lis 
ten.  Now  I  must  compel  you  to  listen  —  mad,  impetuous 
man !  "  and  she  seemed  almost  resentful.  "  In  what  you 
have  just  been  saying,  you  have  written  a  part  for  me. 
You  have  given  me  a  character.  If  I  could  play  that  part 
always,  I  should  be  what  you  are  in  love  with,  and  you 
would  love  me  always ;  but  I  cannot  play  it  always ;  I  can 
play  it  seldom.  I  play  it  now  for  an  hour  and  then  per 
haps  never  again." 

"  Never  again?  "  Hampstead  gasped,  something  in  the 
finality  of  her  tone  thrilling  him  through  with  a  hollow, 
sickening  note. 

Her  eyelids  narrowed  as  she  replied :  "  You  forget 
that  I,  too,  live  the  calculating  life." 

There  was  again  that  mysteriously  sinister  meaning  in 
her  utterance  of  the  word  "  calculating." 

"  The  key  to  my  life  is  not  love ;  it  cannot  be  love,"  she 
went  on.  "  I  am  not  the  purring  kitten  you  have  de 
scribed.  It  angers  me  to  have  you  think  so.  I  am  not 
a  thing  to  love  and  fondle.  I  am  a  tigress  tearing  at  one 
object.  I  am,"  and  in  the  vehement  force  of  her  utter 
ance  she  seemed  to  grow  tall  and  terrible,  "  I  am  an  am 
bitious  woman !  An  unscrupulous,  designing,  clambering, 
ambitious  woman !  " 


A  THING  INCALCULABLE  131 

"  But  I  love  you,  Marien,"  John  iterated  weakly. 

"  There  is  no  place  for  love  in  the  calculating  life,"  she 
rejoined  unhesitatingly.  "  Love  is  a  thing  incalculable." 
Yet  as  she  uttered  this  sentence,  her  tone  softened,  and 
her  eyes  had  a  look  of  awe  and  hunger  oddly  mixed  in 
them;  but  immediately  the  expression  of  resolute  ambi 
tion  succeeded  to  her  features. 

"  When  I  am  at  the  top,"  she  proposed  loftily. 

"  But  the  better  part  of  life  may  be  gone  then,"  John 
protested  bitterly.  "  The  top !  When  shall  we  reach  the 
top?" 

"  I  shall  reach  it  in  a  bound  when  my  opportunity 
comes,"  Marien  answered  with  cool  assurance.  "  No 
body,  not  even  myself,  knows  how  good  I  am.  Any  night 
some  man  may  sit  in  front  who  has  both  the  judgment 
to  see  and  the  money  to  command  playwrights,  theaters, 
New  York  appearances  to  order.  When  they  come,  I 
shall  conquer.  Oh,"  and  her  eyes  sparkled  while  she 
shivered  with  a  thrill  of  self-gratulation,  "  it  is  wonderful 
to  feel  the  great  potential  thing  inside  of  you,  to  know 
that  your  wings  are  strong  enough  to  fly  and  you  only 
wait  the  coming  of  the  breeze.  It  is  dazzling,  intoxica 
ting,  to  think  that  within  three  months  I  may  be  a  Broad 
way  star;  that  within  a  year  the  whole  English-speaking 
world  may  recognize  that  a  new  queen  of  the  emotional 
drama  and  of  tragedy  has  been  crowned.  Until  that 
hour,"  and  she  lowered  her  voice  as  she  checked  the  exal 
tation  of  her  mood,  "  until  that  hour  a  lover  would  be  a 
millstone." 

"  But,"  exulted  John,  "  you  are  not  at  the  top  yet.  I 
may  arrive  first!  " 

Marien  looked  him  up  and  down  and  laughed,  just 
laughed, —  about  the  look  and  laugh  that  Parks  had  given 
him. 

Hampstead's  eager  face  flushed. 


132  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  You  do  not  think  that  possible/'  he  challenged  aggres 
sively. 

"  No,  dear  boy/'  replied  the  woman,  her  tone  and 
manner  swiftly  sympathetic,  "  I  know  it  is  not  possible. 
You  do  not  realize  how  far  you  have  to  go.  If  you 
have  genius,  you  do  not  show  it.  You  have  talent,  tem 
perament,  intelligence,  application;  these  may  win  for 
you,  but  the  way  will  be  long  and  the  compensation  un 
certain.  If  you  persist  for  ten,  fifteen,  maybe  twenty 
years,  till  some  of  your  exuberance  has  died,  till  ex 
perience  has  rounded  you  off,  till  you  have  learned  from 
that  great  big  compelling  teacher  out  there  in  front,  the 
audience,  what  is  art  and  what  is  not;  while  you  may 
not  be  accounted  a  great  star,  yet  the  world  will  recog 
nize  your  craftsmanship  and  concede  you  a  place  of  emi 
nence  upon  the  stage,  a  position  well  worth  occupying, 
but  one  for  which  you  will  pay  long  years  before  you  get 
it." 

"  But  our  love,"  John  protested  helplessly. 

"  Who  said  '  our  love/ "  Marien  declaimed  almost 
petulantly.  "  I  have  not  confessed  to  any  love." 

"  But  —  but,"  and  John's  eyes  opened  widely,  "  you 
would  not  permit  — " 

"  I  did  not  permit,"  she  flashed.  "  You  took,  and  I 
forgave  because  I  told  you  I  could  understand.  Can  you 
not,  blind  man,  also  understand?  If  man  is  sometimes 
man,  will  not  woman  also  sometimes  be  woman?  " 

"  Did  it  mean  —  no  more  than  that  ?  " 

John's  eyes  searched  hers  accusingly. 

Her  answer  was  to  scorn  to  answer.  She  made  it 
seem  that  she  was  dismissing  him,  exactly  as  any  heart 
less  woman  might  dismiss  a  favorite  who  had  amused 
her  for  an  hour,  but  whose  antics  and  cajoleries  had  now 
begun  to  pall. 

Dazed  and  dumb,  Hampstead  seemed  to  feel  his  way 


A  THING  INCALCULABLE  133 

backward  toward  the  door,  where  Julie  came  mysteri 
ously,  unsummoned,  to  help  him  on  with  his  coat  and 
thrust  his  hat  into  his  hand.  When  John  turned  for  a 
last  look,  Marien's  back  was  turned,  and  though  the  head 
was  bowed  and  the  side  of  the  face  half  concealed,  he 
thought  he  saw  a  look  of  agony  upon  it. 

"  Marien,"  he  murmured  hoarsely,  with  sudden  emo 
tion.  "  Marien !  " 

But  on  the  instant  she  raised  her  face  to  him,  and  it 
was  the  old  face,  wonderful  and  witching,  beaming  with 
a  happy,  cordial  smile  as  she  laid  her  hand  in  his  without 
a  sign  of  restraint  of  any  sort.  The  very  heartlessness 
of  it  completed  his  bewilderment.  Did  the  woman  not 
know  that  she  was  breaking  his  heart?  It  killed  his 
hope ;  it  cowed  him  and  threw  him  into  a  sullen  mood. 

"  Good-by,  Miss  Dounay,"  he  said  huskily. 

Her  eloquent  eyes  shot  him  a  look  in  which  reproach 
and  tenderness  mingled,  while  her  hand  pulsed  quickly 
like  a  heart  beating  in  his  palm.  What  mood  of  sullen- 
ness  could  withstand  that  look?  Not  his.  He  smiled, 
as  if  a  ray  of  sunshine  played  upon  his  face,  and  amended 
with: 

"  Good  night,  Marien/' 

"  Good-by,  John,"  she  answered  sweetly. 

The  door  was  closed  behind  him  before  John  realized 
that  with  all  her  sweetness,  she  had  said  good-fry,  and 
the  emphasis  was  on  the  "  by." 

At  the  corner  the  bewildered  man  turned  and  looked 
up.  He  could  see  the  lace  curtain  at  the  window,  but  he 
could  not  see  the  pillows  on  the  divan  quivering  with 
sobs  from  a  soft  burden  that  had  flung  itself  among 
them  when  the  door  was  closed. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE   SCENE    PLAYED    OUT 

MARIEN  DOUNAY  loved  him,  but  for  the  sake  of  her 
own  ambition  was  trying  to  kill  that  love.  This  was 
the  explanation  which  the  sleepless,  tossing  hours  fed 
again  and  again  into  John  Hampstead's  mind  until  he 
accepted  it  as  the  demonstrated  truth. 

As  for  himself,  he  could  no  more  have  killed  his  love 
for  Marien  than  he  could  have  killed  a  child.  He  de 
termined  deliberately  to  match  his  will  against  hers  and 
break  it ;  to  see  her  again  immediately,  to  meet  her  argu 
ments  with  better  arguments,  her  firm  rejections  with 
firmer  affirmations ;  to  melt  her  resolution  with  an  appeal 
to  her  heart;  in  short,  and  by  some  means  not  now 
clear,  to  overmaster  her  purpose  for  the  sake  of  her  own 
happiness  as  well  as  his. 

But  a  thought  of  Bessie  Mitchell  came  crowding  in. 
Now  this  was  not  altogether  strange,  since  John  had  half- 
consciously  cherished  the  notion  that  he  would  some 
day  love  Bessie,  and  he  reflected  now  that  she  must  have 
had  a  feeling  of  the  same  sort  toward  himself.  Per 
haps  this  was  why  she  cried  that  day  upon  the  rocks ;  per 
haps,  too,  that  was  why  he  kissed  her,  for  he  was  be 
ginning  now  to  understand  some  things  better  than  he 
had  before.  Conscience  demanded  therefore  that  he 
write  Bessie  a  tactful  letter  which,  while  vague  and  gen 
eral,  would  yet  somehow  reveal  the  tremendous  change 
in  the  drift  of  his  affections. 

Just  that  much,  however,  was  going  to  be  hard  —  a 


THE  SCENE  PLAYED  OUT  135 

brutal  piece  of  work  —  to  merely  hint  that  some  other 
woman  might  be  coming  more  intimately  into  his  life 
than  this  trustful,  jolly-hearted  companion.  But  it  was 
honest  and  it  must,  therefore,  be  done. 

Hampstead  summoned  grimly  all  his  resolution  and 
dipped  his  pen  in  ink. 

"  Dear  Bessie,"  he  wrote,  and  then  his  pen  stopped, 
and  an  itching  sensation  came  into  the  corners  of  his 
eyes  and  a  lump  into  his  throat. 

Presently  he  laid  the  pen  down  as  resolutely  as  he  had 
taken  it  up.  He  could  not  write  Bessie  out  of  his  life, 
after  all;  at  least  not  like  that.  Instead  he  wrote  a  letter 
that  was  a  lie,  or  that  started  out  to  be  a  lie;  but  the 
surprising  thing  to  Hampstead  was  that  while  he  wroter 
visioning  Bessie  at  home  in  Los  Angeles,  rose-embowered, 
or  walking  to  school  beneath  rows  of  palms,  he  was  him 
self  transported  to  Los  Angeles,  and  the  letter  was  not 
false.  He  was  back  again  in  the  old  life,  and  Bessie  was 
an  interesting  and  necessary  part  of  it. 

Yet  he  found  he  could  not  seal  himself  into  the  old 
life  when  he  closed  the  flap  of  the  envelope.  The  mo 
ment  the  letter  was  mailed,  his  mind  went  irresistibly 
back  to  Marien,  whom  it  was  a  part  of  his  plan  to  see 
that  very  day.  This  was  possible  because  Mowrey  re 
hearsals  were  long  and  somewhat  painful  affairs. 

Hurrying  from  the  Sampson  Stock,  at  the  end  of  his 
own  rehearsal,  John  was  able  to  cross  the  bay  and  reach 
the  Grand  Opera  House  while  Mowrey's  people  were 
still  wearily  at  work,  and  to  make  his  way  apparently 
unseen  through  the  huge,  gloomy  auditorium  to  a  box 
which  was  deep  in  shadow,  as  boxes  usually  are  at  re 
hearsal  time. 

Marien  was  "  on  ",  and  the  big  fellow's  heart  leaped 
at  the  sound  of  her  voice;  yet  presently  it  stood  still 
again,  for  his  jealous  ear  had  detected  a  disquieting  note 


136  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

in  her  utterance,  a  sort  of  cajoling  purr  which  the  lover 
recognized  instantly.  It  was  not  Marien  Dounay  in  re 
hearsal,  nor  yet  in  "  character  " ;  it  was  Marien  herself 
when  in  her  most  ingratiating  mood,  and  wras  meant 
neither  for  the  rehearsal  nor  for  the  character,  but  for 
the  actor  who  played  the  opposing  role. 

Who,  by  the  way,  was  this  handsome  man,  with  the 
rare,  low  voice  that  combined  refinement  and  carrying 
power,  so  absolutely  sure  of  himself,  whose  every  move 
betokened  the  seasoned,  accomplished  actor,  and  who  dis 
played  to  perfection  those  very  graces  which  John  him 
self  hoped  some  day  to  exhibit? 

In  the  box  in  front  of  Hampstead  was  another  ghostly 
figure,  also  watching  the  rehearsal.  John  reached  for 
ward  and  touched  him  on  the  shoulder,  whispering  hol 
lowly  :  "  Who  is  the  new  leading  man  ?  " 

"Charles  Manning  of  New  York,"  was  the  reply; 
"  specially  engaged  for  this  and  three  other  roles." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  John,  swallowing  hard,  for  now 
he  understood  perfectly  the  disagreeable  meaning  of  those 
cajoleries.  They  represented  just  one  more  element  in 
Marien  Dounay' s  calculating  life.  This  New  York  ac 
tor  might  go  back  and  drop  the  word  that  would  bring 
her  opportunity,  the  thing  her  vaulting  ambition  coveted 
more  than  it  coveted  love.  Therefore  she  was  taking 
deliberate  advantage  of  these  situations  to  kindle  a  per 
sonal  interest  in  herself,  for  which,  once  her  object  was 
gained,  she  would  refuse  responsibility  as  heartlessly  as 
she  had  tried  to  reject  the  big  man  who  just  now  started 
so  violently  as  he  watched  her. 

Look  at  that  now!  The  stage  direction  had  required 
Manning  to  take  Marien  in  his  arms  for  a  minute. 
Hampstead  ground  his  teeth. 

Well,  why  didn't  they  separate?  What  was  she  cling 
ing  to  him  so  long  for?  Why,  indeed,  if  it  were  not 


THE  SCENE  PLAYED  OUT  137 

for  this  same  reason  that  to  John,  stewing  in  jealous 
rage,  seemed  despicable  and  base.  This  was  not  nice; 
it  was  not  womanly;  it  was  not  a  true  reflection  of 
Marien's  character.  It  was,  he  assured  himself  hotly, 
one  of  the  things  from  which  he  must  save  her. 

But  he  had  no  opportunity  to  begin  his  work  of  salva 
tion  that  afternoon,  for  rehearsal  ended,  Marien  walked 
out  with  Charles  Manning  so  closely  in  her  company 
that  Hampstead  could  not  so  much  as  catch  her  eye,  and 
his  emotions  were  in  such  a  riot  that  he  dared  not  trust 
himself  to  accost  her. 

When  John  had  walked  the  streets  for  an  hour,  with 
the  storm  of  his  feelings  rising  instead  of  settling,  he 
resolved  upon  a  note  to  Marien  and  went  to  the  office 
of  the  Dramatic  Review  to  dispatch  it. 

"  Dear  Marien,"  he  wrote.  "  I  must  see  you  to-night. 
I  will  call  at  twelve.  JOHN." 

The  brevity  of  this  communication  was  deliberately 
calculated  to  express  his  headlong  mood  and  the  depths 
of  his  determination.  He  had  not  asked  an  answer,  but 
waited  for  one,  assuring  himself  that  if  none  came  he 
would  call  just  the  same.  Yet  the  answer  was  ominously 
prompt.  John  tore  it  open  with  brutal  strength  and  saw 
Marien's  handwriting  for  the  first  time.  It  was  vigorous 
and  rectangular,  but  unmistakably  feminine,  and  there 
was  neither  salutation  nor  signature. 

"  Stupid !  "  the  note  began  abruptly.  "  I  saw  you  in 
the  box  to-day.  I  will  not  have  you  spying  upon  me. 
You  must  not  call.  I  have  tried  to  make  you  under 
stand.  Why  can  you  not  accept  the  situation?  Or  are 
you  mad  enough  to  compel  me  to  stage  the  scene  and  play 
it  out  for  you  ?  " 


138  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

John  read  the  note  twice,  crumpled  it  in  his  hand, 
and  walked  slowly  down  Geary  Street  to  Market  and 
down  Market  Street  to  the  ferry. 

In  the  second  act  that  night  he  forgot  to  take  on  the 
knife  with  which  he  was  to  stab  his  victim,  and  nearly 
spoiled  the  scene,  through  having  to  strangle  him  in 
stead. 

"Stage  the  scene  and  play  it  out  for  you?"  What 
could  she  mean  by  that. 

Determined  to  find  out,  John  hurried  from  the  theater 
at  the  close  of  the  performance,  with  his  lips  pursed  stub 
bornly,  and  at  exactly  twelve  o'clock  Julie  was  answering 
his  ring  at  the  door  of  the  little  apartment  on  Turk 
Street. 

"  Ah !  "  she  exclaimed,  smiling  cordially.  "  It  is  the 
big  man  again.  No,  Madame  is  not  in.  She  is  having 
supper  out  to-night.  With  whom?  La!  la!  I  should 
not  tell  you  that,"  and  Julie  shrugged  one  shoulder  only, 
after  a  way  of  hers,  and  made  a  movement  to  close  the 
door;  but  something  in  John's  eyes  induced  her  to  add, 
with  both  sympathy  and  chiding  in  her  tone :  "  You 
must  not  come  to  see  Madame  when  Madame  does  not 
want  you." 

"But  I  must  see  her,  Julie!"  John  pleaded  huskily, 
rather  throwing  himself  upon  the  mercy  of  the  little 
French  woman. 

Julie  gazed  at  him  doubtfully.  She  had  fended  off 
the  attentions  of  many  an  importunate  suitor  from  her 
beautiful  mistress  but  never  one  who  engaged  at  once 
so  much  of  her  sympathy  and  respect  as  he.  In  her 
mind  she  was  weighing  something;  reflecting  perhaps 
whether  it  was  not  kindness  to  this  big,  earnest  man  to 
let  his  own  eyes  serve  him.  Her  decision  was  evidently 
in  the  affirmative. 

"If  you  go  quickly  to  the  entrance  of  Antone's,"  she 


THE  SCENE  PLAYED  OUT  139 

suggested  hurriedly,  "  you  will  see  Madame  arriving  pres 
ently  in  an  automobile." 

Stubborn  as  John  was  in  his  purpose,  he  nevertheless 
flushed  that  even  Julie  could  think  him  capable  of  stand 
ing  at  the  door  of  a  French  restaurant  at  midnight  wait 
ing  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  woman  he  loved  in  the  com 
pany  of  another  man.  Yet  pride  was  so  completely 
swallowed  up  in  jealousy  and  passion  that  another  five 
minutes  found  him  loitering  before  the  entrance  to  An- 
tone's,  resolving  to  go,  to  stay;  to  look  and  not  to  look; 
feeling  now  weakly  ashamed  of  himself  and  now  meanly 
resolute. 

The  place  was  half  underground,  with  a  gilded  and 
illumined  entrance  that  yawned  like  the  mouth  of  a  mon 
ster.  John  was  sure  from  its  outward  look  that  An- 
tone's  was  no  more  than  half  respectable.  The  fragrance 
of  the  food  which  assailed  his  nostrils  was,  he  felt  equally 
sure,  an  expensive  fragrance.  A  meal  there  would  cost 
as  much  as  a  week  of  meals  where  he  was  accus 
tomed  to  take  his  food.  Manning,  of  course,  had  a  fine 
salary.  He  could  afford  to  take  Marien  for  an  automo 
bile  ride  and  /to  Antone's  for  supper. 

Hampstead's  envious  rage  flamed  again  at  this  thought, 
but  at  the  moment  the  flash  of  a  headlight  in  his  eyes 
called  attention  to  an  automobile  just  then  sweeping  in 
toward  the  curb.  However,  instead  of  the  stalwart, 
graceful  figure  of  Manning,  there  emerged  from  the  car 
a  squat,  oily- faced  man,  huge  of  paunch,  with  thick  lips, 
a  heavy  nose,  pouched  cheeks,  and  small,  pig-like  eyes, 
upon  whose  broad  countenance  hung  an  expression  of 
bland  self-complaisance.  By  an  odd  coincidence,  this 
man  was  also  connected  with  the  stage.  John  knew 
him  by  sight  as  Gustav  Litschi,  and  by  reputation  as  a 
very  swine  among  men,  utterly  without  scruple,  although 
endowed  with  an  uncanny  business  sense;  a  man  who 


140  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

had  money  and  whose  theatrical  ventures  always  made 
money,  though  often  their  character  was  as  doubtful  as 
himself. 

Disappointed,  Hampstead  nevertheless  experienced  a 
feeling  of  curiosity  as  to  Litschi's  companion,  and  before 
drawing  back,  followed  the  gross  glance  of  the  gimlet 
eyes  within  the  car  to  where  they  rested  gloatingly  upon 
a  woman  in  evening  clothes,  who  was  gathering  her  train 
and  cloak  about  her  preparatory  to  being  helped  from 
the  car.  To  John's  utter  amazement  the  woman  was 
Marien. 

For  a  moment  he  stared  as  if  confronted  with  a  spec 
ter,  then  felt  his  great  hands  itching  while  he  wavered 
between  a  desire  to  leap  upon  this  coarse  creature  and 
tear  him  to  pieces,  and  the  impulse  to  accost  Marien  with 
reproaches  and  a  warning.  But  the  swift  reflection  that 
she  probably  knew  the  man's  character  perfectly  well 
prompted  John  instead  to  the  despicable  expedient  of  de 
liberately  spying  upon  her.  Turning  impetuously,  he  ran 
quickly  down  the  steps  in  advance  of  the  couple. 

"One?"  queried  the  headwaiter,  with  a  keen  esti 
mating  glance  under  which  John  ordinarily  would  have 
felt  himself  to  shrivel;  but  now  a  frenzy  of  jealousy  and 
a  sense  of  outrage  had  made  him  bold. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied  brusquely ;  "  that  seat  yonder  in  the 
corner  where  I  can  see  the  whole  show." 

It  was  a  lonely  and  undesirable  table,  smack  against 
the  side  of  the  wall,  along  which  ran  a  row  of  curtained, 
box-like  alcoves  that  served  as  tiny  private  dining  rooms. 
John  could  have  it  and  welcome.  He  got  it,  and  as  he 
turned  to  sit  down,  his  eye  scanned  the  interior  swiftly 
for  Marien  and  Litschi.  To  his  surprise  they  were  com 
ing  straight  at  him,  Marien  leading.  Certain  that  she 
had  seen  him  and  was  going  to  address  him,  John  never 
theless  determined  to  await  a  look  of  recognition  before 


THE  SCENE  PLAYED  OUT  141 

arising.  To  his  further  surprise,  no  such  look  came. 
Coldly,  icily  beautiful  to-night,  the  glitter  in  her  eyes 
was  hard  and  desperate,  with  a  suggestion  of  menace  in 
it,  reminding  John  of  that  momentary  intuition  he  had 
once  experienced,  that  this  woman  could  be  dangerous. 
Her  note  had  warned  him  not  to  spy  upon  her,  he  re 
called.  It  must  be  that  her  discovery  of  his  presence  had 
roused  a  devil  in  her  now.  So  strong  did  this  feel 
ing  become  that  he  felt  a  relief  as  great  as  his  surprise 
when  she  brushed  by  as  if  oblivious  of  his  presence  and 
passed  from  view  into  the  nearest  box,  the  curtain  of 
which  a  waiter  was  holding  aside  obsequiously. 

When  the  screening  curtain  dropped,  swinging  so  near 
that  John  could  have  reached  across  his  table  and  touched 
it  with  a  hand,  he  had  a  sense  of  sudden  escape,  as  if 
a  tigress,  sleekly  beautiful  and  powerfully  cruel,  had  over 
leaped  him  to  tear  a  richer  prey  beyond.  The  swine-like 
Litschi,  waddling  after  her  into  the  box,  was  the  chosen 
victim.  Yonder  by  the  curb  John  had  feared  for  Marien ; 
now,  repulsive  as  the  creature  was,  he  felt  a  kind  of  pity 
for  Litschi. 

Yet  with  the  curtain  drawn,  Hampstead's  emotion 
passed  swiftly  back  to  love  and  anxiety  for  her.  She 
had  not  seen  him,  that  was  all.  The  supposed  look  of 
menace  was  the  product  of  his  imagination  and  his  jeal 
ousy. 

As  the  minutes  passed  unnoted,  this  anxiety  grew  again 
into  sympathy  and  consideration.  Marien  had  com 
plained  to  him  of  the  hard  things  she  had  to  do.  This 
supper  with  Litschi  was  merely  one  of  them.  That  scene 
with  Manning  was  another.  He  reflected  triumphantly 
that  she  had  not  welcomed  Litschi  to  her  apartment ;  but 
compelled  him  to  bring  her  to  this  public  place.  Poor, 
brave  girl !  She  had  to  play  with  all  these  men ;  to  warm 
them  without  herself  getting  burnt;  to  woo  them  des- 


142  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

perately  upon  the  chance :  Manning  that  he  might  some 
where  speak  the  fortunate  word,  Litschi  that  in  some 
greedy  hope  of  gain  he  might  be  induced  to  risk  his 
money  on  the  venture  that  would  give  Marien  the  op 
portunity  for  which  she  had  been  calculating  indomitably 
for  seven  years. 

But  what  was  that? 

John's  hand  reached  out  and  clutched  the  table  vio 
lently,  while  his  body  leaned  forward  as  if  to  rise.  What 
was  that  she  had  said  so  loudly  he  could  hear,  and  so  as 
tonishing  that  he  could  not  believe  his  ears  ? 

He  had  been  sitting  there  such  a  long,  long  time,  think 
ing  thoughts  like  these,  stirred,  soothed,  and  stirred  again 
by  the  sound  of  her  voice,  heard  intermittently  between 
the  numbers  of  the  orchestra.  He  had  ordered  food  and 
eaten,  then  ordered  more  and  eaten  that, —  anything  to 
think  and  wait,  he  did  not  know  for  what. 

Waiters  bearing  trays  had  come  and  gone  unceasingly 
from  behind  the  curtain  four  feet  from  his  eyes,  and  he 
knew  that  they  had  borne  more  bottles  than  food.  Sev 
eral  times  he  had  heard  a  sound  like  "  shots  off-stage." 
This  sound  always  succeeded  the  entry  of  a  gold  sealed 
bottle.  Evidently  they  were  drinking  heavily  behind  the 
curtain,  Litschi's  voice  growing  lower  and  less  coherent, 
and  Marien's  louder  and  less  reserved,  till  for  some  time 
he  had  been  catching  little  snatches  of  her  conversation. 
She  had  been  talking  about  her  future,  painting  a  picture 
of  the  success  she  would  make  when  her  opportunity 
came;  but  now  she  had  said  the  thing  that  staggered 
him. 

"  What  ?  "  he  came  near  to  saying  aloud ;  and  at  the 
same  time  he  heard  the  drink-smothered  voice  of  Litschi 
also  with  interrogative  inflection.  Litschi,  too,  wanted 
to  be  sure  that  he  had  heard  aright. 

"  I  say/'  iterated  the  voice  of  Marien  deliberately,  as 


THE  SCENE  PLAYED  OUT  143 

if  with  calculated  carrying  power,  "  that  a  woman  who 
is  ambitious  must  be  prepared  to  pay  the  price  demanded 
—  her  heart,  her  soul  —  if  need  be  —  herself!" 

She  plumped  out  the  last  word  ruthlessly,  and  broke 
into  a  half -tipsy  laugh  that  had  in  it  a  suggestion  unmis 
takable  as  much  as  to  say : 

"  You  understand  now,  don't  you,  Gustav  Litschi  ? 
You  realize  what  I  am  offering  to  the  man  who  buys  me 
opportunity?  " 

Her  heart  —  her  soul  —  herself!  Hampstead,  having 
started  up,  sat  down  again  weakly,  the  cold  sweat  of  hor 
ror  standing  out  upon  his  brow. 

So  this  was  what  she  had  meant  all  the  time  in  her 
speech  about  the  calculating  life.  She  could  not  give 
herself  up  to  love  him  or  any  one,  because  she  was  dan 
gling  herself  as  a  final  lure  to  the  man  who  would  give  her 
opportunity. 

Why,  this  woman  was  spiritually  —  morally  —  poten 
tially,  a — "  he  could  barely  let  himself  think  the  hateful 
word.  To  utter  it  was  impossible. 

Perhaps  she  was  worse!  A  choking,  burning  sensa 
tion  was  in  his  throat.  He  tore  at  it  with  his  hands,  gasp 
ing  for  breath.  He  wanted  to  tear  at  the  curtain  —  at  the 
woman!  How  he  hated  her!  She  had  no  longer  any 
fineness.  She  was  a  coarse,  designing,  reckless  —  prosti 
tute!  There !  In  his  agony,  the  word  was  out.  He  sent 
it  hurtling  across  the  stage  of  his  own  brain.  It  flew 
straight.  It  found  its  mark  upon  the  face  of  his  love  and 
stuck  there  blotched  and  quivering,  biting  into  the  picture 
like  acid.  It  ate  out  the  eyes  of  Marien  Dottnay  from 
his  mind ;  it  ate  away  her  pliant  ruby  lips,  her  cheeks  and 
her  soft  round  chin,  and  it  left  of  that  face  only  a  grin 
ning  hideousness  from  which  John  Hampstead  shrank 
with  a  horrible  sickness  in  his  heart. 

At  this  moment  the  curtain  rings  clicked  sharply  under 


144  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

the  sweep  of  an  impetuous  arm,  and  with  the  suddenness 
of  an  apparition,  Marien  stood  just  across  the  table  from 
him.  Her  face  was  highly  colored,  but  the  preternatural 
brightness  of  the  eyes  had  begun  to  dull,  and  there  was  a 
loose  look,  too,  about  the  mouth,  the  lips  of  which  were 
curled  by  a  mocking  smile. 

"  Well,  John  Hampstead!  "  she  sneered,  with  a  vindic 
tive  look  in  her  eyes,  insinuating  scorn  in  her  tones. 
"  Now  that  I  have  played  out  the  scene,  do  you  think  you 
understand  ?" 

John  had  risen  stiffly,  every  fiber  of  him  in  riot  at  the 
horror  he  had  heard  and  was  now  seeing;  but  his  self- 
control  was  perfect,  and  a  kind  of  dignity  invested  him 
for  the  moment. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  meeting  her  gaze  unflinchingly,  "  I 
understand !  " 

The  tone  of  finality  that  went  into  this  latter  word  was 
unescapable.  As  it  was  uttered,  Marien  attempted  one  of 
her  lightning  changes  of  manner  but  failed,  breaking 
instead  into  a  fit  of  hysterical  laughter,  during  which, 
with  head  thrown  back,  her  body  swayed,  and  she  dis 
appeared  behind  the  curtain,  where  the  laughter  ended 
abruptly  in  something  like  a  choke,  or  a  fit  of  coughing. 

But  John's  indignation  and  disgust  were  so  great  that 
he  did  not  concern  himself  as  to  whether  Miss  Dounay's 
laughter  might  be  choking  her  or  not.  Embarrassed,  too, 
by  the  number  of  eyes  turned  curiously  upon  him  from 
the  nearer  tables  where  the  diners  had  observed  the  inci 
dent  without  gathering  any  of  its  purport,  his  only  im 
pulse  was  to  pay  his  bill  and  escape,  before  the  building 
and  the  world  came  clattering  down  upon  him. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE    METHOD   OF   A   DREAM 

So  paralyzing  to  a  man  of  Hampstead's  sensitive  nature 
was  the  effect  of  Marien  Dounay's  startling  disclosure 
that  he  experienced  a  partial  arrest  of  consciousness,  the 
symptoms  of  which  hung  on  surprisingly. 

Somehow  that  night  he  got  back  to  Oakland,  and  the 
next  morning  was  again  about  his  work ;  but  the  days  went 
by  mechanically  —  days  of  risings  and  retirings,  eatings 
and  sleepings,  memorizing  of  lines,  mumbling  of  speeches, 
sliding  into  clothes,  slipping  into  grease  paint,  walkings 
on  and  walkings  off.  Through  all  of  these  daily  obliga 
tions  the  man  moved  with  a  certain  absent-minded  pre 
cision,  like  a  person  with  a  split  consciousness,  who  does 
not  let  his  right  lobe  know  what  his  left  lobe  is  thinking. 

He  knew,  for  instance,  that  a  telegram  came  to  him  one 
day  with  the  charges  collect,  and  that  he  paid  the  charges 
and  signed  for  the  message,  but  he  did  not  know  that  the 
message  lay  unopened  on  his  dresser  while  he  spent  all 
his  unoccupied  time  sunk  in  a  stupor  of  meditation  upon 
the  thing  which  had  befallen  him. 

Most  astonishing  to  John  was  the  fact  that  while  he 
felt  rage  and  humiliation  at  having  so  duped  himself  over 
Marien  Dounay,  he  had  no  sense  of  pain.  He  was  like  a 
man  run  over  by  a  railroad  train  who  experiences  no  throb 
of  anguish  but  only  a  sickish,  numbing  sensation  in  his 
mangled  limbs. 

Recognizing  that  his  condition  was  not  normal,  Hamp- 
stead  wondered  if  he  could  be  going  insane.  He  was 


146  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

eating  little ;  he  was  taking  no  interest  in  his  work.  He 
went  and  came  from  the  theater  automatically,  impatient 
of  company,  impatient  of  noise,  of  newspaper  headlines, 
of  interruptions  of  any  sort,  anxious  only  to  get  to  his 
room,  to  throw  himself  into  a  chair  or  upon  a  bed,  and 
relapse  into  a  state  of  mental  drooling.  After  several 
days  he  roused  from  one  of  these  reveries  with  the  clear 
impression  that  some  presence  had  been  there  in  the  room, 
had  breathed  upon  him,  had  touched  his  lips,  and  spoken 
to  him.  He  leaped  up  and  looked  about  him.  He  opened 
the  door  and  scanned  the  corridor.  No  one  was  there, — 
no  echo  of  corporeal  footsteps  resounded. 

Realizing  that  it  must  have  been  his  own  dream  that 
waked  him,  he  came  back  sheepishly  and  tried  again  to 
induce  that  state  of  mental  dusk  in  which  the  odd  sensa 
tion  had  been  experienced.  Soon  he  roused  again  with 
the  knowledge  that  the  presence  had  been  with  him  and 
had  departed;  but  this  time  a  clear  picture  of  the  vision 
remained.  It  was  a  woman, —  it  was  like  Marien.  It 
was,  he  told  himself,  the  image  of  his  Love.  He  enter 
tained  it  sadly,  like  an  apparition  from  the  grave.  The 
vision  came  again,  but  with  repeated  visits,  its  form  began 
to  change,  until  it  no  longer  resembled  the  form  of 
Marien. 

This  was  exciting;  the  image  might  change  still  further 
till  it  definitely  resembled  some  one  else. 

This  surmise  proved  correct.  It  did  change  more  and 
more  until  identity  was  for  a  time  completely  lost,  but  as 
days  passed,  the  features  ceased  to  blur  and  jumble.  The 
eyes  were  now  constantly  blue ;  the  complexion  was  con 
sistently  pink  and  white;  the  hair  was  brown  and  began 
to  appear  crinkly;  the  lips  grew  shorter,  and  of  a  more 
youthful  red;  the  chin  broadened  and  appeared  fuller  and 
softer.  One  morning  these  rosier  lips  smiled  with  a 
rarer  spontaneity  than  the  vision  had  ever  shown  before, 


THE  METHOD  OF  A  DREAM  147 

and  with  the  smile  came  two  dimples  into  the  peach-blow 
cheeks. 

"  Bessie!  "  John  cried,  with  a  welcoming  shout  of  in 
coherent  joy.  "  Bessie!  " 

But  his  joy  was  speedily  swallowed  up  in  the  gloom  of 
mortifying  reflections.  Could  it  be  that  his  love  was  so 
inconstant  as  to  transfer  itself  in  a  few  days  from  Marien 
Dounay  to  Bessie  Mitchell,  and  if  it  did,  what  was  such 
love  worth?  Besides,  how  could  he  love  Bessie  as  he 
had  loved  Marien.  There  was  no  fire  in  her.  As  yet, 
she  was  only  a  girl.  But  at  this  juncture  a  memory  came 
floating  in  of  that  day  on  the  Cliff  House  rocks,  when 
some  vague  impulse,  which  he  thought  to  be  sympathy, 
had  made  him  draw  Bessie's  face  up  to  his  and  kiss  it. 
Now,  as  he  recalled  it,  the  touch  of  her  lips  was  the  touch 
of  a  woman;  and  her  look  that  puzzled  him  then, —  why, 
it  was  the  look  of  love ! 

Hampstead  leaped  up  excitedly.  Bessie  was  a  woman, 
and  she  loved  him !  And  he  loved  her !  But  how  could 
he  have  been  such  a  fool  as  to  think  that  he  loved  Marien  ? 

"  Passion,"  he  told  himself  scornfully,  "  mere  passion." 

"  She  was  the  first  ripe  woman  I  ever  touched,  and  I 
fell  for  her!  That's  all,"  he  muttered.  "But,  how 
could  I  ever,  ever,  ever  have  done  it?  " 

Heaping  bitter  self-reproaches,  he  took  his  bewildered 
head  in  his  hands,  while  he  wrestled  with  the  humiliating 
chain  of  ruminations.  Naturally  enough,  it  was  the 
memory  of  a  speech  of  Marien's  which  afforded  him  his- 
first  clue. 

"  In  what  you  have  just  been  saying,  you  have  given  me 
a  character,"  she  had  replied  to  one  of  his  advances.  "  If 
I  could  play  that  part  always,  I  should  be  what  you  are  in 
love  with,  and  you  would  love  me  always;  but  I  cannot 
play  it  always ;  I  can  play  it  seldom.  I  play  it  now  for  an 
hour  and  then  perhaps  never  again." 


148  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

This  speech,  vexatiously  enigmatic  then,  sounded  sud 
denly  rational  now.  It  meant  that  he  had  unconsciously 
bestowed  upon  her  his  idealized  conception  of  woman 
hood.  This  was  made  comparatively  easy  because  in  the 
plays  Marien  almost  invariably  enacted  the  heroines,  al 
ways  sweet,  always  gentle,  and  almost  always  good;  or, 
if  erring,  they  were  more  sinned  against  than  sinning. 
Most  of  these  piled-up  virtues  of  her  roles  John  dotingly 
had  ascribed  to  her,  and  his  professional  contacts  af 
forded  few  glimpses  of  the  real  Marien  by  which  his 
drawing  could  be  corrected. 

Atop  of  this  had  come  those  few  hours  of  delicious  in 
timacy  in  her  apartment,  when  she  had  deliberately  played 
the  part  she  saw  that  he  would  like.  This  had  sufficed 
to  make  his  illusion  complete. 

Still  John  had  no  reproaches  for  the  actress.  Instead, 
he  found  within  him  a  renascence  of  respect  for  her,  par 
ticularly  for  her  frankness.  Most  women  —  most  men, 
too,  for  that  matter,  he  thought  —  play  the  hypocrite  with 
themselves  and  with  others.  He  must  do  her  full  credit. 
She  had  not  done  so.  She  might  have  ruined  him.  He 
owed  his  escape  to  no  discernment  of  his  own.  When 
he  had  not  understood,  she  had  resolutely  played  the 
scene  out  for  him  —  to  the  uttermost.  It  must  have  cost 
a  woman,  any  woman,  something  to  do  that,  he  reasoned. 
Under  this  interpretation,  Marien  was  no  longer  repulsive 
to  him.  Instead,  he  found  in  her  something  to  admire. 
Her  courage  was  sublime.  Her  devotion  to  her  god,  am 
bition,  if  terrible,  was  also  magnificent. 

"  Yet,  why,"  he  asked  himself,  "  did  she  let  me  take  her 
in  my  arms?  Sympathy,"  he  answered  at  last.  "She 
never  loved  me.  A  woman  who  loved  a  man  could  not 
do  what  she  did  in  the  restaurant.  She  was  very  sorry 
for  me,  that  was  all.  She  let  me  kiss  her  as  she  would  let 
a  dog  lick  her  hand."  And  then  he  remembered  another 


THE  METHOD  OF  A  DREAM  149 

speech  of  hers :  "  If  a  man  is  sometimes  man,  may  not 
woman  be  also  sometimes  woman?  " 

This  helped  him  finally  and  completely,  as  he  thought,  to 
understand;  but  it  left  him  with  a  still  deeper  sense  of  his 
own  weakness  and  humiliation. 

Marien  Dounay  had  roused  the  woman  want  in  him 
and  while  she  was  near,  her  personality  had  been  strong 
enough  to  center  that  want  upon  herself.  But  when  she 
shook  his  passion  free  of  her,  it  turned,  after  circling  like 
a  homing  pigeon,  due  upon  its  course  to  Bessie.  John 
saw  that  this  was  all  logical  and  psychological.  Patently, 
it  was  also  biological. 

But  it  was  mortifying  beyond  words.  He  felt  that  he 
had  dishonored  himself  and  dishonored  Bessie.  He  had 
supposed  himself  strong;  he  found  himself  weak.  He 
had  been  swept  off  his  feet  and  out  of  his  head.  He  was 
ashamed  of  himself,  heartily.  Bessie,  the  good,  the  pure, 
the  noble!  Why,  he  could  not  think  of  her  at  all  in  the 
terms  in  which  he  thought  of  Marien  Dounay.  His  in 
stinct  for  Marien  had  been  to  possess.  For  Bessie  it  was 
to  revere,  to  worship  —  and  yet  —  and  yet  —  he  wanted 
her  now  with  an  urge  that  was  stronger  than  ever  he  had 
felt  for  Marien. 

Still,  he  had  no  impulse  to  rush  to  Bessie.  He  felt 
unworthy.  He  could  not  see  himself  taking  her  hand, 
touching  her  lips,  declaring  his  love  to  her  now.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  he  must  test  his  love  for  Bessie  before 
he  declared  it,  and  purify  it  by  months  —  years,  perhaps, 
—  of  waiting,  as  if  to  expiate  the  sin  of  his  weakness. 

But  in  the  meantime,  Bessie  loved  him,  and  would  be 
loving  him  all  the  time.  And  he  could  write  to  her !  Ah, 
what  letters  he  would  write,  letters  that  would  not  only 
keep  her  love  alive  but  fan  it,  while  he  punished  himself 
for  his  insane  disloyalty. 

Disloyalty !     Yes,  that  was  the  very  word.     He  knew 


150  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

as  he  reflected  that  he  had  been  disloyal  ever  to  yield  to 
the  spell  of  Marien  Dounay.  He  had  been  disloyal  to 
Bessie,  to  his  ideals,  and  to  himself. 

He  turned  to  where  a  few  days  before  he  had  pinned 
his  old  Los  Angeles  motto  on  the  wall  of  his  Oakland 
room:  "Eternal  Hammering  is  the  Price  of  Success." 

Hammering,  he  decided,  was  the  wrong  word.  It  was 
not  high  enough.  He  stepped  over  to  the  wall  and 
changed  it  to  the  new  word  so  that  it  read : 

"  Eternal  Loyalty  is  the  Price  of  Success." 

He  liked  that  better;  so  well,  in  fact,  that  he  lifted  his 
hand  dramatically  and  swore  his  life  anew,  not  to  ham 
mering  but  to  Loyalty, —  loyalty  to  himself,  to  Bessie,  to 
Dick  and  Tayna,  and  to  God! 

This  gave  him  a  feeling  of  new  courage.  He  turned 
away  as  from  a  disagreeable  experience  now  forever 
past.  His  eyes  wandered  about  the  room  exactly  as  if  he 
had  returned  from  an  absence,  taking  in  detail  by  detail 
the  familiar,  scanty  furniture,  the  hateful  spring  rocker, 
the  washstand,  the  bed,  the  torn,  smoke-soiled  curtains  at 
the  window,  the  picture  of  Washington  at  Valley  Forge 
upon  the  wall,  and  the  dresser  with  its  cheap  speckled 
mirror. 

His  glance  had  just  paused  mystified  at  the  sight  of  the 
unopened  telegram  upon  the  dresser  when  there  was  a 
knock  at  the  door. 

With  a  stride,  John  turned  the  key  and  swung  open 
the  door. 

Bud,  the  fourteen-year-old  call  boy  of  the  Sampson 
Theater,  entered;  a  breathless,  self-important  youngster 
with  freckles  and  a  stubby  pompadour. 

"  Mr.  Cohen's  says  yer  better  write  a  letter  ter  yer 
sister,"  the  lad  blurted,  while  his  eyes  scanned  the  room 
and  the  actor,  where  he  stood  reaching  in  a  dazed  sort  of 
way  for  the  telegram. 


THE  METHOD  OF  A  DREAM  151 

"  Hey/*  exclaimed  Hampstead,  looking  up  sharply, 
"my  sister?" 

"  Ye-uh,"  affirmed  Bud  stoutly.  "  Mr.  Cohen's  got  a 
letter  from  her,  and  she  wants  to  know  if  yer  sick  'r 
anything." 

"  By  jove,  that's  right,  Bud,"  confessed  John  with 
sudden  conviction.  "  I've  had  my  mind  on  something  of 
late,  and  guess  I've  rather  overlooked  the  folks  at  home. 
I'll  write  to-day.  Awfully  kind  of  you,  old  chap,  to  come 
over.  Here! " 

And  Hampstead,  now  with  the  telegram  in  his  hand, 
attempted  to  cover  a  feeling  of  confusion  before  these 
bright,  peering  eyes  by  a  pilgrimage  to  the  closet,  from 
which  he  tossed  Bud  a  quarter.  The  lad  accepted  the 
quarter  thankfully. 

"  Say,  Mr.  Hampstead,"  he  broke  out  impulsively,  with 
an  embarrassed  note  in  his  voice,  "  I'm  sorry  you  got  your 
notice ! " 

"  Got  my  notice  ?  "  asked  John  a  bit  sharply. 

"  Yes.  Yer  let  out,"  announced  Bud,  with  unfeeling 
directness,  though  consideration  was  in  his  heart.  "  You 
been  good  to  me,  Mr.  Hampstead,  and  I'm  sorry  you're 
goin'.  Some  of  the  others  is,  too." 

But  John  was  roused  now,  thoroughly. 

"Why,  Bud,  what  are  you  talking  about?"  he  de 
manded,  turning  accusingly  to  the  boy. 

"  For  the  love  of  Mike,"  exclaimed  Bud,  advancing  a 
little  fearsomely  and  studying  the  face  of  Hampstead 
with  new  curiosity,  "  Yer  let  out  and  don't  know  it ! 
What'd  I  tell  'em?  Why,  there  it  is,"  and  he  snatched 
up  a  blue,  thin-looking  envelope  from  the  dresser.  "  Y1 
got  it  a  week  ago  when  you  got  yer  pay.  Y'  ain't  opened 
it  even." 

Hampstead  took  the  blue  envelope  from  Bud's  hand, 
an  awful  sense  of  weakness  running  through  him  as  he 


152  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

read  that  his  services  would  not  be  required  after  the 
customary  two  weeks. 

"  What  did  I  get  this  for,  Bud?  "  he  asked,  sensing  the 
uselessness  of  dissimulation  before  this  impertinent  child. 

"  Y'  got  it  fer  bein'  dopey,"  answered  Bud  reproach 
fully.  '*  Y'  ain't  had  no  more  sense  than  a  wooden  man 
fer  ten  days.  Say,  Mr.  Hampstead,"  he  ventured  fur 
ther  with  sympathetic  friendliness,  "  yer  a  good  actor 
when  you  let  the  hop  alone.  Why  don't  you  cut  it? 
You're  young  yet.  You  got  a  future,  Mr.  Cohen  says, 
if  you'll  let  the  dope  alone." 

Hampstead's  face  took  on  a  queer,  half-amused  look. 

"Is  that  what  he  said?" 

"  That's  what  he  said,"  affirmed  Bud  aggressively. 

"  Well,  then,  all  right,  Bud.  I  will  cut  it  out.  Here's 
my  hand  on  it." 

Bud  took  the  hand,  a  trifle  surprised  and  feeling  a  little 
more  important  than  usual.  "  Say,"  he  added  confiden 
tially,  "  wise  me,  will  y' ;  what  kind  have  you  been  takin'  ? 
Mr.  Cohen  says  he's  never  seen  nothin'  like  it,  and  he 
thought  he'd  seen  'em  all." 

"  Oh,  it's  a  little  brand  I  mixed  myself,"  confessed 
John.  "  But  I'm  done  with  it.  Run  along  now,  Bud. 
You've  been  a  good  pal,"  and  he  gave  the  lad  a  pat  on 
the  shoulder  and  a  significant  shove  toward  the  door. 

"  Glad  I  came  over,"  reflected  Bud  at  the  door,  jingling 
the  quarter  in  his  pocket.  "  Better  write  yer  sister,  or 
she'll  be  comin'  up  here.  Say,"  and  Bud  returned  as  if 
for  a  further  confidence,  "  y'  never  know  what  a  woman's 
goin'  to  do,  do  y'?  Las'  fall  a  woman  shot  our  leadin' 
juvenile  in  the  leg  —  because  she  loved  him.  Get  that? 
Because  she  loved  him !  " 

Bud's  drawling  scorn  was  inimitable. 

"  Y'  can't  figger  'em,  can  yuh?  Some  of  'em  wants  to 
be  called,  and  some  of  'em  don't.  Some  of  'em  wants 


THE  METHOD  OF  A  DREAM  153 

their  letters  before  the  show,  and  some  of  'em  after. 
Some  of  'em  is  one  way  one  day  and  the  other  way  the 
next  day.  If  I  ever  get  my  notice, —  if  I  ever  lose  my 
job  it'll  be  about  a  woman.  I  never  seen  a  man  yet  that 
I  couldn't  get  his  nannie.  I  never  seen  a  woman  yet  that 
couldn't  get  mine  and  get  it  fresh  every  time  I  run  a  step 
fer  her.  Say !  Mr.  Hampstead  —  honest  —  ain't  they 
the  jinx?" 

Bud  had  got  his  hand  on  the  door,  but  getting  no 
answer  to  this  very  direct  and  to  him  very  important 
question,  he  turned  and  scrutinized  the  face  of  the  big 
man  curiously  at  first  and  then  with  amazement,  as  he 
exclaimed:  "Fer  the  love  of  Mike!  He  ain't  heard 
me.  Say,  Mr.  Hampstead !  Say ! "  Bud  went  back 
and  shook  the  big  man's  arm,  with  a  look  of  apprehension 
on  his  face,  and  shouted  very  loud,  as  if  to  the  deaf : 
"  Say !  Come  out  of  it,  will  y'  ?  Don't  write.  Tele 
graph  her.  Gosh!  She  might  blame  me!  " 

After  which  parting  gun  in  behalf  of  duty  and  of  pru 
dence,  with  a  sigh  and  the  air  of  having  done  a  man's 
best,  the  lad  got  hastily  through  the  door  and  slammed 
it  after  him  very  loudly. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE    CATASTROPHE 

BUD  was  right.  John  had  not  heard  him.  He  stood 
with  the  telegram  torn  open  in  his  hand. 

"Charles  fell  from  El  Capitan,"  it  ran.  "Body 
brought  here.  ROSE." 

For  a  moment  the  man  gazed  fixedly,  deliberately  but 
absently  crushing  the  envelope  in  one  hand,  while  the 
other  held  the  open  message  before  him.  Then  his  lips 
moved  slowly  and  without  uttering  a  sound,  they  framed 
the  words  of  his  thought :  "  Charles !  —  Dead !  —  Mer 
ciful  God!" 

For  a  reflective  interval  the  gray,  startled  eyes  set  them 
selves  on  distance  and  then  turned  again  to  the  message. 
It  was  dated  April  4. 

April  4?     What  day  was  this? 

On  the  dresser  was  an  unopened  newspaper.  John  re 
membered  now  he  had  bought  it  yesterday,  or  rather  he 
assumed  it  was  yesterday.  The  date  upon  the  paper  was 
April  14.  If  it  were  yesterday  he  bought  that  paper,  to 
day  was  the  I5th,  and  Charles  had  been  dead  eleven  days ! 
What  had  they  thought  —  what  had  they  done  without  a 
word  from  him  in  this  crisis?  What  had  become  of 
them? 

And  there  were  unopened  letters  on  the  dresser,  three  of 
them,  all  from  Rose.  John  tore  them  open,  lapping  up 
their  contents  with  his  eyes. 


THE  CATASTROPHE  155 

"  Poor,  poor  Rose !  "  he  groaned.  "  What  must  she 
think  of  me?" 

The  first  letter  told  of  the  death  of  Charles  and  the 
lucky  sale  of  "  Dawn  in  the  Grand  Canyon  "  which  af 
forded  money  for  the  recovery  of  the  body  and  its  decent 
interment,  but  little  more. 

The  second  letter  was  briefer  and  expressed  surprise  at 
not  hearing  from  him  in  response  to  her  message,  which 
the  telegraph  company  assured  her  had  been  delivered  to 
him  in  person.  This  letter  showed  Rose  bearing  up 
under  her  grief  and  stoutly  making  plans  for  taking  up 
the  support  of  her  children. 

The  third  letter  was  addressed  by  the  hand  of  Rose, 
but  the  brief  note  enclosed  was  penned  by  the  kind-hearted 
Doctor  Morrison,  the  railroad's  "  company "  physician, 
to  whom,  as  a  part  of  his  outside  practice,  Rose  would 
have  applied  in  case  of  illness. 

"  Your  sister,"  Doctor  Morrison  wrote,  "  has  suffered 
a  complete  nervous  breakdown.  Long  rest  with  complete 
relief  from  financial  care  is  imperative." 

This  letter  stirred  John  to  immediate  action.  He 
rushed  to  the  long-distance  telephone.  The  telegraph  was 
not  quick  enough, 

"  Please  reassure  my  sister  immediately/'  John  tele 
phoned  to  Doctor  Morrison.  "  Every  provision  will  be 
made  for  her  care  and  that  of  the  children."  Not  satis 
fied  with  this,  John  sent  a  telegram  to  his  sister  direct  and 
to  the  same  effect. 

These  messages  were  dispatched  as  the  first  and  most 
natural  impulses  of  the  brother's  heart,  without  pause  to 
consider  the  responsibilities  involved ;  and  then,  having  no 
appetite  for  breakfast,  John  returned  to  his  room  to  write 
to  Rose. 

Poor  Rose !  And  poor  old  Charles !  Such  an  end  for 
him.  No  great  pictures  painted;  no  roseate  successes 


156  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

gathered;  just  to  follow  his  vision  on  and  on  until  in 
absent-minded  admiration  of  a  sunset  glow  he  stepped  off 
the  brow  of  El  Capitan  in  Yosemite  and  fell  hundreds  of 
feet  to  death.  Yet  John's  grief  was  strangely  tempered 
by  the  thought  that  somehow  this  death  was  fitting.  It 
was  like  the  man's  life.  In  art  he  had  tried  to  walk  the 
heights  with  no  solid  ground  of  ability  beneath,  and  he 
had  fallen  into  the  bottomless  abyss  of  failure. 

For  a  moment  John  pitied  Charles  greatly;  yet  when 
he  thought  of  Rose,  prostrated,  as  he  was  sure,  not  by 
grief,  but  by  long  anxieties,  his  feeling  turned  to  one  of 
reproach.  When  he  thought  of  the  children  left  father 
less,  with  no  provision  for  their  future  or  that  of  Rose, 
the  reproach  turned  to  bitterness.  He  found  himself 
judging  Charles  very  sternly,  and  a  verse  from  scripture 
came  into  his  mind, —  something  about  the  man  who  pro 
vides  not  for  his  own  being  worse  than  a  murderer. 

But  in  the  midst  of  this  condemnation,  Hampstead's 
jaw  dropped,  and  he  sat  staring  at  the  pen  with  which  he 
was  preparing  to  write.  The  expression  on  the  man's 
face  had  changed  from  concern  to  one  of  agony.  When 
the  pain  passed,  his  features  were  gray  and  tenantless, 
almost  the  look  of  the  dead;  for  John  Hampstead  had 
suddenly  perceived  that  his  stage  career  was  ended! 

Rose,  Dick  and  Tayna  were  now  "  his  own."  To  give 
Rose  the  best  of  care,  upon  which  his  heart  had  instantly 
determined,  he  must  have  what  were  to  him  large  sums 
of  money  weekly  and  monthly;  money  for  nurses,  money 
for  doctors,  for  sanitariums  possibly;  and  perhaps  Dick 
and  Tayna  must  be  sent  to  boarding-school  or  some  place 
like  that  for  the  present,  while  their  higher  education  must 
also  be  considered  and  provided  for. 

John  knew  he  could  never  do  these  things  and  follow 
the  stage.  He  could  succeed  upon  the  stage;  he  had 
proven  that,  to  his  own  satisfaction  at  least;  but  he  could 


THE  CATASTROPHE  157 

not  make  money  there  yet,  not  for  years  and  years.  Ma- 
rien  was  right.  If  he  persisted,  rewards  would  come  and 
affluence.  But  they  would  come  at  the  other  end  of  life. 
He  must  have  them  now. 

Perhaps  hardest  of  all  to  John  was  the  hurt  to  his  pride, 
to  his  self-confidence,  the  reflection  that,  having  set  his 
eye  upon  a  shining  goal,  he  must  abandon  the  march 
toward  it  unbeaten,  with  his  strength  untested,  or  with  the 
tests  so  far  made  distinctly  in  his  favor.  It  was  hard  to 
think  himself  a  "  quitter."  And  yet  he  could  feel  the 
stir  of  a  noble  satisfaction  in  being  a  "  quitter  "  for  duty's 
sake.  He  remembered  with  a  certain  sad  pleasure  how 
almost  prophetically  he  had  told  Mr.  Mitchell  that  it  would 
only  be  something  that  would  happen  to  Dick  and  Tayna 
that  could  keep  him  from  going  on  with  his  ambition. 
Now  exactly  that  had  come  to  pass;  yet  to  make  imme 
diate  surrender  of  the  ambition  to  which  he  had  devoted 
himself  with  such  enthusiasm  seemed  impossible.  He 
knew  what  he  should  do  —  what  he  intended  to  do  —  but 
he  lacked  the  resolution  for  the  moment. 

If  Bessie  were  only  here! 

And  yet  if  she  were,  he  would  shrink  from  her  pres 
ence.  He  felt  just  now  unworthy  to  look  into  those 
trusting  eyes  of  blue.  This  time  he  must  face  his  destiny 
alone. 

His  head  sank  low.  His  hands  were  clasped  above  it, 
as  they  had  been  that  night  when  he  was  stricken  blind. 
The  world  was  dark  before  him.  Now,  as  then,  he  felt 
sorry  for  himself.  In  a  very  few  months  a  great  many 
things  had  happened  to  him  that  had  wrenched  him 
violently.  He  had  been  racked  by  doubts  and  inflamed 
by  mysterious  emotions.  He  had  hoped  and  he  had 
dared ;  he  had  struggled ;  he  had  gained  some  things  and 
lost  some;  but  he  had  survived,  and  on  the  whole  was 
conquering.  Now  came  the  heaviest  blow,  as  it  seemed, 


158  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

that  could  possibly  fall  upon  his  head, —  and  just  in  the 
very  hour  when  the  upward  way  was  clearing! 

His  face  was  flat  upon  the  page  he  had  meant  to  fill  with 
words  of  love  and  help  to  Rose.  Above  him,  on  the  wall, 
was  the  sheet  of  faded  yellow  paper  that  bore  his  just 
amended  motto.  Two  pins,  loosened  no  doubt  when  he 
changed  the  word  on  the  legend,  had  been  whipped  out 
by  the  breeze  which  swept  in  through  the  open  window, 
and  this  breeze  now  fluttered  the  free  end  of  the  yellow 
sheet  insistently  like  a  pennant,  so  that  the  distracted  man 
lifted  his  clouded  eyes  and  read  once  again,  as  if  to  make 
sure: 

"  Eternal  Loyalty  is  the  Price  of  Success." 
"  Loyalty  to  what?  "  he  demanded  fiercely  of  himself. 
To  his  ambition?     Or  to  two  little  growing  lives  that 
trusted  and  believed  in  him  ? 

To  put  the  question  like  that  was  to  answer  it.  John 
rose  abruptly,  snatched  the  legend  from  the  wall,  crumpled 
it  as  he  had  the  envelope,  and  cast  it  on  the  floor.  He 
didn't  need  it  any  more. 

"  And  yet,"  he  reflected  after  a  moment,  "  why  not? " 
"Uncle  John,  when  will  you  be  president?"  Tayna 
had  asked  him  that  one  night,  and  he  smiled  as  in  fancy 
he  felt  her  arms  again  about  his  neck,  her  bare  feet  cud 
dling  in  his  lap.  The  thought  roused  him.  He  was  not 
surrendering  all  ambition  when  he  surrendered  a  stage 
ambition.  He  was  a  man  of  greatly  increased  ability  now 
as  compared  with  then.  Surely  a  man  was  pretty  poor 
stuff  if,  having  been  defeated  in  one  desire  through  no 
fault  of  his  own,  he  could  not  carve  out  another  niche  for 
himself  somewhere  in  the  wide  hall  of  achievement. 
John  stooped  and  recovered  the  crumpled  square  of  yel 
low,  smoothed  its  wrinkles  reverently,  and  fastened  it 
again  and  more  securely  upon  the  wall  above  him. 


THE  CATASTROPHE  159 

That  night  John  Hampstead  went  to  the  theater  as 
usual,  but  entered  the  dressing  room  like  a  man  going 
into  the  presence  of  his  dead.  Throughout  the  per 
formance  he  made  his  entrances  and  exits  solemnly. 

The  play  for  this,  his  final  week,  was  Hamlet,  and 
John's  part  was  the  King.  Every  night  as  the  Prince  of 
Denmark  killed  him  with  a  rapier  thrust,  John  enacted 
that  spectacular  and  traditional  fall  by  which,  since  time 
forgotten,  all  Kings  in  Hamlet  go  toppling  to  the  floor, 
where  they  die  with  one  foot  upraised  upon  the  bottom 
most  step  of  the  throne,  as  if  reluctant  even  in  death  to 
give  up  the  perquisites  and  preeminence  of  royalty.  So 
hour  by  hour  John  felt  that  he  was  killing  the  King  in 
his  soul,  but  the  King  died  reluctantly,  always  with  one 
foot  on  the  throne. 

The  last  night  came,  and  the  last  hour.  Methodically 
the  man  assembled  his  make-up  materials,  his  grease 
paints,  his  hare's  feet,  and  the  beard  he  had  himself 
fashioned  for  the  King  to  wear,  and  put  them  away,  with 
their  sweetish,  unmistakable  odor,  in  the  old  cigar  box, 
to  be  treasured  henceforth  like  sacred  things,  symbols  of 
a  great  ambition  which  had  stirred  a  young  man's  breast, 
and  remembrances  of  the  greatest  sacrifice  it  seemed  pos 
sible  aspiring  youth  could  be  called  upon  to  make. 

But  no  one  was  to  know  that  it  was  a  sacrifice;  not 
Rose,  not  Dick  nor  Tayna  even.  They  were  to  think  he 
did  it  happily  and  because  "The  stage  —  the  stage  life, 
you  know !  Well,  probably  there  are  better  ways  for  a 
man  to  spend  his  energies." 

But,  really,  in  his  heart  of  hearts,  Hampstead  knew  he 
would  love  the  drama  always.  He  owed  it  a  debt  that 
he  could  never  repay,  and  some  day  when  he  had  achieved 
a  brilliant  success  in  another  walk  of  life  —  when  Dick 
and  Tayna  were  grown  and  far  away  perhaps  —  he  would 
take  out  the  old  cigar  box  and  gather  his  children  around 


160  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

him,  if  he  should  have  children,  and  tell  them  the  story 
of  his  first  divinest  ambition  as  one  tells  the  story  of  one's 
first  love;  and  of  the  great  sacrifice  he  had  made  in  the 
cause  of  duty,  fingering  the  while  these  crumbling  things 
as  one  caresses  a  lock  of  hair  of  the  long  departed. 

"  Look,  Bud,  here's  a  box  of  cold  cream  —  nearly  full. 
You  can  get  a  quarter  for  it  from  somewhere  along  the 
line,"  suggested  John,  nodding  toward  the  row  of  dress 
ing  rooms  as  he  walked  away,  his  overcoat  over  his  shoul 
der,  a  suitcase  in  his  hand. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE   KING   STILL   LIVES 

To  make  money  quickly  and  steadily  and  in  consider 
able  amounts,  was  his  immediate  necessity.  He  remem 
bered,  naturally,  that  only  seven  months  ago  William  N. 
Scofield  had  offered  him  a  salary  of  twelve  thousand  dol 
lars  a  year,  and  he  went  to  see  that  gentleman  promptly. 
But  while  the  Traffic  Manager's  eye  lighted  at  sight  of 
him,  the  light  faded.  Scofield  did  not  refer  to  the  offer 
he  had  made  or  the  things  he  had  talked  about  that  night 
in  the  Pacific  Union  Club.  He  only  said  absently :  "I 
will  speak  to  Parsons."  The  next  day  Parsons  offered 
Hampstead  a  position  in  the  rate  department  at  one  hun 
dred  dollars  per  month.  John  was  not  greatly  surprised. 
He  knew  the  world  was  like  that. 

Of  course,  he  might  have  gone  next  to  Mr.  Mitchell, 
but  did  not.  In  the  first  place  John  knew  that  no  posi 
tion  which  that  kind-hearted  gentleman  might  offer  could 
pay  as  much  money  as  he  must  have.  In  the  second 
place,  he  felt  himself  big  with  a  sense  of  new-grown 
powers,  of  personality  that  he  wanted  to  capitalize,  not  for 
some  employer,  but  for  himself. 

"  Seems  to  me,"  he  communed,  as  he  walked  down 
Market  Street,  "  that  I  could  sell  real  estate,  or  stocks,  or 
bonds;  that  I  could  promote  enterprises,  work  with  big 
men,  put  through  their  deals,  and  make  a  lot  of  money. 
I  believe  I  will  try  it." 

An  advertisement  which  seemed  to  promise  something 
like  this  was  answered  by  him  in  person,  but  it  proved 
instead  a  proposition  to  sell  books.  John  revolted  at  the 


162  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

idea,  but  the  books  interested  him  greatly.  The  set  was 
designed  for  self -improvement,  and  the  price  was  thirty 
dollars. 

"  Every  time  you  sell  a  young  man  or  woman  a  set  of 
these,  you  do  them  good,"  he  suggested  to  the  manager, 
with  a  glow  upon  his  face. 

"  Exactly,"  assented  that  suave  gentleman,  sighting  two 
prime  essentials  of  a  salesman,  faith  in  his  article  and  a 
missionary  enthusiasm.  "  You  could  make  a  hundred  a 
week  selling  'em !  " 

One  hundred  dollars  a  week!  John  looked  his  in 
credulity. 

"  What  were  you  doing  before  ?  "  inquired  the  manager. 

"Acting!" 

"  Selling  books  is  like  acting,"  mused  the  manager. 
"If  you  are  a  good  actor,  you  could  make  a  hundred  a 
week  easy." 

Because  John  needed  one  hundred  dollars  a  week,  and 
reflected  that  the  experience  would  be  good  training  for 
that  higher  form  of  salesmanship  upon  which  he  meant 
to  embark,  he  took  his  prospectus  and  started  out.  The 
first  week  his  commissions  were  $7.50.  He  had  made  one 
sale.  But  he  needed  one  hundred  dollars  worse  the 
second  week,  and  set  forth  with  greater  determination. 
That  week  he  made  two  sales.  "  I've  almost  got  it,"  he 
assured  himself,  gritting  his  teeth  desperately.  And  the 
third  week  he  did  get  it.  His  commissions  for  six  days 
were  $74.50,  for  the  next  week  $i  12.50,  for  the  fifth  week 
$145.00.  John  Hampstead  was  successfully  launched 
upon  an  enterprise  that  would  care  for  all  his  money 
wants. 

And  the  work  itself  was  happy  work.  It  was  no  foot- 
in-the-door,  house-to-house  campaign  on  which  he  had 
entered.  Ways  were  found  of  gathering  lists  of  persons 
likely  to  be  interested.  He  called  upon  these  people  like 


THE  KING  STILL  LIVES  163 

a  gentleman;  he  was  received  and  entertained  like  one. 
His  self-respecting  manner,  his  stage-trained  presence, 
his  growing  store  of  personal  magnetism,  his  strong,  inter 
esting  face,  with  the  odd  light  of  spiritual  ardor  in  his 
eyes,  and  the  little  choke  of  enthusiasm  that  came  into  his 
voice,  all  helped  to  make  his  presence  welcome  and  his 
canvass  entertaining.  He  became  an  adept  in  reading 
character  and  in  playing  upon  the  springs  of  desire  and 
resolution. 

He  discovered,  too,  something  to  interest  and  admire  in 
nearly  every  one  upon  whom  he  called.  He  was  surprised 
to  find  how  nice  people  were  generally.  He  had  before 
known  people  mainly  in  the  mass,  as  publics,  as  audiences, 
or  congregations.  Now  he  began  to  know  them  as  indi 
viduals,  and  to  like  them,  to  conceive  a  sort  of  social  pas 
sion  for  them,  and  to  desire  fervently  to  do  all  men  good. 
With  this  went  the  knowledge  that  he  was  becoming 
socially  very  skillful,  and  a  sense  of  still  increasing  per 
sonal  power  peppered  his  veins  with  the  sparkle  of  new 
hopes.  Ambition  flamed  once  more.  The  king  in  his 
soul  was  alive  again.  He  could  not  only  meet  people,  but 
handle  them.  He  felt  that  as  a  politician  he  could  win 
votes,  as  a  lawyer  he  could  sway  juries. 

He  might  even  turn  again  to  the  stage,  with  the  pros 
pect  of  swifter  and  surer  success;  but  he  had  begun  to 
discover  that  one  cannot  go  back,  that  no  life  ever  flows 
up-stream. 

Yet  the  thing  which  really  made  the  stage  career  no 
longer  possible  was  this  sense  of  new  powers  grown  up 
within  him  that  were  not  mimetic,  but  creative  and  con 
structive,  and  which  would  insistently  demand  some  other 
form  of  expression. 

Besides,  the  perspective  of  his  life  was  now  long  enough 
for  him  to  look  back  and  see  how  all  his  experiences  had 
enriched  him.  His  very  awkwardness,  his  temporary 


164  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

blindness,  his  dramatic  ambition,  the  calamity  which  shat 
tered  that  career  and  made  him  a  seller  of  books,  each 
had  been  a  step  into  power.  His  passion  for  Marien  even, 
while  it  was  a  fall,  was  a  fall  into  knowledge,  which 
taught  him  self-control  and  made  his  love  for  Bessie  a 
tenderer  and,  as  he  fancied,  a  stauncher  devotion  than  it 
could  otherwise  have  been. 

This  gave  him  a  feeling,  half-superstitious  and  half- 
religious,  that  his  existence  was  being  ordered  for  him  by 
a  power  above  his  own.  The  effect  of  this  was  to  in 
crease  his  eager  zest  for  life  itself.  He  lived  excitedly, 
hurrying  continually,  to  see  what  would  leap  out  at  him 
from  behind  the  next  corner. 

Meantime,  he  was  making  money.  Within  six  months 
all  the  bills  were  paid  and  he  had  more  than  a  thousand 
dollars  in  the  bank.  Rose  was  out  of  the  sanitarium  and, 
with  Dick  and  Tayna,  was  housed  in  a  cottage  on  the 
slope  of  a  hill  in  western  San  Francisco,  where  the  setting 
sun  flashed  its  farewell  upon  the  windows,  and  the  wide 
ocean  rolled  always  in  the  distance. 

John  was  beginning,  too,  to  feel  that  the  time  had  come 
when  he  could  go  back  to  Bessie  and  tell  her  of  his  love. 
The  past  seemed  very  far  past  indeed.  The  memory  of 
those  whirlwind  hours  of  passionate  attachment  to  Marien 
Dounay  was  like  a  distorted  dream  of  some  drug-induced 
slumber  into  which  he  had  sunk  but  once,  and  from  which 
he  had  awakened  forever. 

Letters  had  passed  frequently  between  himself  and 
Bessie.  On  his  part,  these  were  carefully  studied  and 
almost  devoutly  restrained  in  expression;  but  none  the 
less  freighted  in  every  line  with  the  fervor  of  his  growing 
devotion  to  her. 

On  her  part,  the  letters  were  as  frankly  and  impulsively 
rich  with  the  essence  of  her  own  happy,  effervescent  self 
as  they  had  always  been.  She  had  expressed  a  loyal  sym- 


THE  KING  STILL  LIVES  165 

pa  thy  with  him  in  the  shattering  of  his  stage  career,  but 
had  commended  him  for  his  renunciation,  while  through 
the  letter  had  run  a  note  of  relief,  which  led  John  to  dis 
cover  for  the  first  time  that  Bessie's  concurrence  in  his 
dramatic  ambitions  was  never  without  misgivings.  True, 
she  had  told  him  this  once,  but  it  was  when  he  had  been 
too  deaf  to  hear.  What  pleased  John  most  in  this  cor 
respondence  was  a  pulse  of  happiness,  quickening  almost 
from  letter  to  letter,  which  the  big  man  felt  revealed  her 
perception  of  his  growing  love  for  her. 

Perhaps  it  was  this  that  put  the  past  so  far  behind,  that 
made  it  seem  as  though  his  love  for  Bessie  had  always 
been  a  part  of  his  life,  and  the  impulse  to  declare  it  a 
legitimate  ripening  of  fruit  that  had  grown  slowly  towards 
perfection. 

In  this  mood  a  day  was  set  when  John  would  go  to 
Los  Angeles  to  visit  Bessie.  As  the  time  approached,  he 
could  think  of  nothing  else.  On  the  morning  of  that 
day,  the  evening  of  which  was  to  mark  his  departure,  he 
was  canvassing  in  Encina,  a  beautiful  section  of  that  urban 
population  of  several  hundred  thousand  people  across  the 
Bay  from  San  Francisco,  the  largest  municipal  unit  of 
which  is  the  City  of  Oakland.  But  thoughts  of  Bessie 
crowding  in,  so  filled  the  lover's  mind  with  rosy  clouds 
that  he  had  not  enough  of  what  salesmen  call  "  closing 
power." 

As  it  happened,  a  tiny  park  was  just  at  hand,  two  blocks 
long  and  half  a  block  wide,  curved  at  the  ends,  dotted  with 
graceful  palms,  with  tall,  shapely,  shiny-leaved  acacias, 
and  covered  with  a  thick  sod  of  grass,  laced  at  intervals  by 
curving  walks. 

Upon  a  bench  in  the  very  center  of  this  park  H  amp- 
stead  dropped  down  and  gave  himself  up  to  blissful  medi 
tations.  Across  the  street  from  him  was  a  block  of  happy- 
looking  cottage  homes,  the  homes  of  the  great  middle- 


1 66  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

class  folk  of  America,  the  one  class  that  John  knew  well 
and  sympathetically,  for  he  himself  was  of  it. 

On  the  corner  directly  before  him  was  a  grass-sodded 
lot,  larger  than  the  others,  holding  in  its  center,  not  a 
cottage,  but  a  structure  of  the  country  schoolhouse  type, 
painted  white,  and  with  a  small  hooded  vestibule  out  in 
front.  Over  the  wide  doors  admitting  to  this  vestibule 
was  a  transom  of  glass,  on  which  was  painted  in  very  plain 
letters  the  words :  CHRISTIAN  CHAPEL. 

"  The  house  of  God  does  not  look  so  happy  as  the 
homes  of  men  hereabout,"  Hampstead  remarked,  and 
just  then  was  surprised  out  of  his  own  thoughts  by  seeing 
the  door  of  the  deserted  looking  chapel  open  and  two  men 
come  out.  One  was  tall  and  heavy,  gray  of  moustache 
and  red  of  face,  wearing  a  silk  hat,  a  white  necktie,  and 
a  full  frock  coat. 

"An  ex-clergyman,"  voted  Hampstead  shrewdly,  be 
cause,  aside  from  his  dress,  the  man  looked  aggressively 
unclerical. 

The  other  was  slender,  with  a  black,  dejected  moustache 
and  also  frock-coated,  but  the  material  of  the  garment  was 
gray  instead  of  black,  and  the  suit  rubbed  at  the  elbows 
and  bagged  at  the  knees.  This  man  carried  a  small 
satchel. 

"  Some  sort  of  a  missionary  secretary,  I'll  bet  you," 
was  John's  second  venture  at  identification. 

Another  incongruous  thing  about  the  man  with  the 
clerical  dress  was  that  he  had  a  carpenter's  hammer  in  his 
hand.  Dropping  this  tool  upon  the  wooden  landing, 
where  it  clattered  loudly,  he  drew  a  key  from  his  pocket 
and  locked  the  door,  shaking  it  viciously  to  make  sure  that 
it  was  fast.  Then,  descending  the  steps,  with  the  claw  of 
the  hammer  he  pried  loose  a  plank,  some  six  or  eight  feet 
long,  from  the  wooden  walk  that  ran  across  the  sod  to 
the  concrete  pavement  in  front.  The  missionary  secretary 


THE  KING  STILL  LIVES  167 

took  one  end  of  this,  and  the  two  raised  it  across  the  door, 
where  the  ex-clergyman  disclosed  the  fact  that  his  bulging 
left  hand  contained  nails,  as  with  swinging  blows,  he  began 
to  cleat  the  door  fast. 

"  Nailing  up  God !  "  commented  John,  whose  mood  had 
become  sardonic. 

"  What's  the  story,  I  wonder,"  he  remarked  next,  and 
rising,  sauntered  across  the  narrow  street  and  up  the 
wooden  walk,  till  he  stopped  with  one  foot  on  the  lower 
step,  gazing  casually,  with  mild  curiosity  expressed  upon 
his  face. 

The  missionary  secretary  had  noted  John's  advance  and 
appeared  to  recognize  that  his  chance  interest  was  legiti 
mate. 

"  A  miserable,  squabbling  little  church,"  the  man  re 
marked,  an  expression  of  pain  upon  his  face.  "  A  dis 
grace  to  the  communion.  I'm  the  District  Evangelist. 
I've  had  to  step  in  from  the  outside  and  close  it  up,  in 
the  interest  of  peace.  Brother  Burbeck,  here,  is  a  leader 
of  one  of  the  wings.  He  has  tried  to  bring  peace  in 
vain." 

"  I  have  stood  up  for  the  Lord  against  the  disturber," 
announced  Brother  Burbeck  over  his  shoulder,  while  he 
dealt  a  vicious  blow,  as  if  the  head  of  the  nail  were  instead 
the  head  of  the  malefactor. 

"And  who  was  the  disturber?"  queried  John.  "A 
man  of  bad  character,  I  suppose." 

"  No,  you  couldn't  call  him  that,  could  you,  Brother 
Burbeck?"  ventured  the  District  Evangelist.  "Just  a 
young  man  from  the  Seminary,  with  his  head  overflowing 
with  undigested  facts." 

"Near  facts,  they  was — only"  interjected  Brother 
Burbeck  sententiously,  as  he  held  another  nail  between  a 
hard  thumb  and  a  knotted  finger,  and  tapped  the  head 
gently  to  start  it. 


168  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  Rather  undermining  the  faith  of  the  people  in  the  old 
Gospel,"  went  on  the  Evangelist. 

"  Takin'  away  what  he  couldn't  never  put  back," 
amended  Brother  Burbeck,  between  blows,  and  then  added 
accusingly :  "  He  had  no  respect  for  the  Elders,  not 
a  bit." 

Brother  Burbeck's  tones,  as  he  contributed  this  addi 
tional  detail,  were  as  sharp  as  his  blows. 

"  You  were  one  of  the  Elders? "  inquired  John,  in  an 
even  voice  that  might  have  been  construed  to  mean  re 
spect  for  the  eldership. 

"  I  am  one  of  'em,"  corrected  the  driver  of  nails.  "  I 
preached  the  old  Jerusalem  Gospel  myself  for  twenty 
years,"  he  affirmed  proudly,  "  until  my  health  failed,  and 
I  went  into  undertaking." 

"  You  appear  to  have  got  your  health  back,"  observed 
John  dryly,  noting  marks  of  the  hammer  upon  the  plank 
where  the  nail  heads  had  been  beaten  almost  out  of  sight 
by  his  slashing  blows. 

"  Yep,"  admitted  that  gentleman,  just  as  dryly. 

Looking  at  Elder  Burbeck's  large  head,  with  its  iron- 
gray  hair,  at  the  silk  hat,  which  stuck  perilously,  but  per 
sistently,  to  the  back  of  it;  noticing  the  folds  of  oily  flesh 
on  his  bullock  neck,  the  working  of  his  broad,  fat  shoul 
ders,  and  the  sweat  standing  out  on  his  heavy  jowls,  as  if 
protesting  mutely  this  unusual  activity  discharged  with 
such  vehemence,  John  made  up  his  mind  that  he  could 
never  like  Elder  Burbeck.  In  his  heart  he  took  the  part 
of  the  disturber. 

"  You  know  what  this  reminds  me  of,  somehow  ?  "  he 
asked,  with  just  a  minor  note  of  accusation  in  his  tone. 

"  Not  being  a  mind  reader,  I  don't,"  replied  Elder  Bur- 
beck,  turning  on  John  a  look  which  showed  as  plainly  as 
his  speech  that  in  the  same  interval  of  time  when  John 
was  deciding  he  didn't  like  Burbeck,  Burbeck  was  decid- 


THE  KING  STILL  LIVES  169 

ing  he  didn't  like  John.     "  What  does  it  ?  "  and  the  Elder- 
undertaker  stared  fiercely  at  the  book  agent. 

"  Nailing  Jesus  to  the  Cross,"  replied  John,  shooting  a 
glance  at  Burbeck  that  was  hard  and  beamlike. 

"  Hey !  "  exclaimed  Burbeck,  his  red  face  reddening 
more. 

"  But,"  explained  the  Secretary,  interjecting  himself 
anxiously,  as  a  man  not  too  proud  of  his  duty  that  day, 
"  it  is  in  the  interests  of  peace.  We  expect  to  give  time  a 
chance  to  heal  the  wounds.  In  six  months  the  disturbing 
element  will  have  gone  away  or  given  up,  and  then  we  can 
open  the  doors  to  peace  and  the  old  faith." 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  said  John,  as  instinctively  liking  the  Mis 
sionary  Secretary  as  he  instinctively  disliked  Brother  Bur- 
beck,  "  it  is  a  movement  in  behalf  of  the  status  quo?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  Secretary,  smiling  faintly,  as  he 
noticed  the  shaft  of  humor  in  John's  eye. 

"  And  Brother  Burbeck  ? "  John  twitched  his  chin  in 
the  direction  of  the  tipsy  silk  hat  and  the  vehemently 
swinging  hammer.  "  He  is  the  apostle  of  the  status 
quo?" 

"Yes,"  assented  the  Missionary,  smiling  yet  more 
faintly,  after  which  he  countered  with:  "Are  you  a 
Christian,  my  brother?  " 

"  I  was  a  Deacon  in  the  First  Church,  Los  Angeles," 
answered  John,  "  but  I've  been  traveling  round  for  a  year 
or  so.  Hampstead's  my  name." 

The  Secretary's  face  lighted  with  unexpected  pleasure. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Brother  Hampstead,"  he  exclaimed, 
putting  out  his  hand  quickly.  "  My  name's  Harding." 

"  Glad  to  meet  you,  Brother  Harding,"  said  John ;  "  I've 
seen  your  name  in  the  church  papers." 

"  Brother  Burbeck,  this  is  Brother  Hampstead,  of  the 
First  Church,  Los  Angeles,"  announced  Harding,  when 
that  gentleman,  having  driven  his  last  nail  and  smashed 


170  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

the  plank  a  parting  blow  with  his  hammer,  turned  to  them 
again. 

Elder  Burbeck's  manner  instantly  changed.  "  Oh,  one 
of  our  brethren,  eh,  Hampstead?  Why,  say,  I  remember 
hearing  you  talk  one  night  down  there  in  Christian  En 
deavor  when  I  was  down  at  the  Undertakers'  Convention. 
They  told  me  you  were  going  on  the  stage.  That's  how  I 
remember  you  so  well,  I  guess." 

"  I  got  over  that  nonsense,"  said  John  easily.  "  Sorry 
to  hear  you've  been  having  trouble  in  your  little  church." 

"  It's  been  a  mighty  sad  case,"  sighed  the  Elder,  heav 
ing  his  ponderous  bosom  and  mopping  his  red  brow  and 
scalp,  for  the  removal  of  his  hat  revealed  that  his  iron- 
gray  hair  was  only  a  fringe. 

"  By  the  way,"  asked  John,  who  was  contemplating  the 
bulletin  board,  "what  about  the  Sunday  school?  I  see 
it's  down  for  nine  forty-five." 

"  Dwindled  to  a  handful  of  children,"  declared  Bur- 
beck,  as  if  a  handful  of  children  was  something  entirely 
negligible. 

John  had  a  reason  for  feeling  especially  tender  where 
the  feelings  of  children  were  concerned. 

"  But  they'll  come  next  Sunday,  and  they'll  be  terribly 
disappointed,"  he  urged.  "  It  will  shake  their  faith  in 
God  himself.  They  won't  understand  at  all,  will  they?  " 

"  I  reckon  they  will  when  they  see  the  church  nailed 
up,"  answered  Burbeck  grimly,  quite  too  triumphant  over 
spiking  an  enemy's  guns  to  consider  the  mystified,  won 
dering  soul  of  childhood  as  it  might  stand  before  that 
nailed  door  four  mornings  forward  from  this,  for  the  day 
of  the  crucifixion  of  the  door  was  Wednesday. 

Their  task  completed,  the  Elder  and  the  Evangelist 
were  turning  toward  the  street.  "  Good-by,  Brother," 
said  Harding,  again  shaking  hands. 

"  Oh,  good-by,  Brother  Hampstead,"  exclaimed  Bur- 


THE  KING  STILL  LIVES  171 

beck,  turning  as  if  he  had  forgotten  something,  and  offer 
ing  his  stout,  once  sinewy  palm. 

John  gave  it  a  grip  that  shook  the  huge  frame  of  Elder 
Burbeck,  and  made  him  feel,  as  he  seldom  felt  about  any 
man,  that  here  was  a  personality  and  a  physical  force  at 
least  as  vigorous  as  his  own. 

"  Good-by,  Brother  Burbeck,"  John  responded,  with  an 
open  smile;  and  then  while  the  two  men  took  themselves 
down  the  street  in  the  direction  of  the  car  line,  the  book- 
agent  went  back  and  sat  contemplatively  in  the  park. 

It  was  a  marvelously  pleasant  day.  A  few  fleecy  clouds 
were  drifting  overhead,  revealing  patches  of  the  unrivaled 
blue  of  California's  sky  above  them.  The  sun  shone 
warmly  when  the  clouds  were  not  in  the  way,  and  when 
they  were,  the  lazy  breeze  made  its  breath  seem  cooler 
and  more  bracing,  as  if  to  compensate  for  the  absence. 
Down  the  street  two  or  three  blocks  Hampstead  could  see 
the  Bay  waters  dancing  in  the  sunlight.  The  cottages  on 
both  sides  of  the  park  were  embowered  with  vines,  roses 
mostly,  white  roses  and  red,  with  here  and  there  a  giant 
bougainvillea,  some  of  its  lavender,  clusterlike  flowers 
abloom,  and  some  of  them  still  sealed  in  their  transparent 
pods  that  looked  like  envelopes  of  isinglass. 

High  in  the  blue  an  occasional  pigeon  circled ;  off  to  the 
left  a  kite  appeared,  sailing  high,  and  bounding  vigorously 
when  the  upper  air  currents  freshened. 

On  John's  own  level,  the  world  was  faring  onward 
very  happily. 

About  every  cottage  there  was  an  air  of  nature's  cheer 
and  a  suggestion  of  blooming  activity.  Only  the  little 
church  looked  hopeless  and  abandoned  of  men,  the  letters 
of  its  name  staring  out  big-eyed  and  lonely  from  above  the 
glass  transom,  while  the  plank  of  the  status  quo,  nailed 
rudely  across  its  front,  was  a  brutal  advertisement  of  its 
dishonored  state. 


172  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  Some  day,"  mused  John,  "  I  think  I'll  build  a  church, 
and  I  believe  I'll  build  it  to  look  like  a  cottage,  with  roses 
round  it  and  bougainvilleas  and  palms,  with  broad  veran 
das,  inviting  lawns,  and  bowering  vines.  I'll  make  it  the 
most  homey  looking  place  in  the  whole  neighborhood,  with 
a  rustic  sign  stuck  up  somewhere  that  says  '  The  Home 
of  God  ',  or  something  like  that." 

Still  musing,  the  scornful  words  spoken  to  John  by 
Scofield  more  than  a  year  ago  on  the  steps  of  the  Pacific 
Union  Club,  came  idling  into  his  mind :  "  Remember ! 
You're  not  an  actor!  You're  a  preacher."  He  smiled 
as  he  recalled  Scofield's  irritation  at  the  idea,  and  his 
own.  How  ridiculously  impossible  it  had  seemed  then 
and  seemed  to-day!  And  it  was  still  so  irritating  as  to 
stir  him  into  getting  up  and  walking  away  from  the  little 
chapel  in  the  direction  of  the  street  car.  Yet  his  mind 
reverted  to  the  closed  door. 

"  Won't  they  be  disappointed,  though?  Those  chil 
dren!" 

At  the  corner  he  turned  and  looked  back  as  if  to  make 
sure.  Yes,  there  was  the  weather-worn  streak  upon  the 
door,  at  that  reckless  angle  which  proclaimed  the  mood  of 
the  man  who  placed  it  there. 

"  And  they  nailed  up  God !  "  Hampstead  commented 
grimly,  swinging  upon  his  car. 

That  afternoon  at  five  o'clock  he  left  for  Los  Angeles. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

WHEN   DREAMS    COME   TRUE 

IT  was  three  o'clock  on  Thursday  afternoon,  and  John 
was  sitting  happily  in  the  Mitchell  living-room  in  Los 
Angeles,  waiting  for  Bessie  to  come  from  school.  Mrs. 
Mitchell  stood  on  the  threshold,  dressed  for  the  street  save 
for  her  gloves,  at  one  of  which  she  was  tugging. 

"  I  have  always  felt,  Mr.  Hampstead,  that  you  were  a 
very  good  influence  for  Bessie,"  she  was  saying  guilefully, 
"  and  I  do  wish  you  would  talk  her  out  of  that  university 
idea.  She  graduates  from  High  in  June,  you-  know ;  and 
she  talks  nothing,  thinks  nothing,  dreams  nothing  but  uni 
versity,  university,  uni-v-e-r-s-i-t-y !  "  Mrs.  Mitchell's 
elocutionary  climax  was  calculated  to  convey  a  very  fine 
impression  of  utter  weariness  with  the  word  and  with  the 
idea ;  but  John,  who  had  flushed  with  gratification  at  the 
crafty  compliment,  would  not  be  swerved  by  either  guile 
or  scorn  from  an  instinctive  loyalty  to  Bessie  and  her 
ideals. 

"  I'm  afraid  I  couldn't  do  that,"  he  said  soberly.  "  My 
heart  wouldn't  be  in  it.  Bessie  has  a  wonderful  mind. 
You  should  give  her  every  advantage." 

"  Well,  talk  her  out  of  Stanford,  then,"  compromised 
Mrs.  Mitchell,  as  if  in  her  mind  she  had  already  surren 
dered,  as  she  knew  she  must.  "  She's  determined  to  go 
there.  Stanford  is  a  kind  of  man's  school,  from  what  I 
hear.  Lots  of  the  Phrosos  are  going  to  U.  C." 

"But  if  I  rather  favor  Stanford  myself?"  suggested 
Hampstead,  feeling  his  way  carefully. 


174  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

The  front  door  opened  and  closed,  and  John's  heart 
leaped  at  the  sound  of  a  light  footstep  in  the  hall.  As 
if  hearing  voices,  the  owner  of  the  footsteps  turned  them 
towards  the  living  room. 

Book  strap  in  hand,  wearing  a  white  shirt  waist  and 
skirt  of  blue,  with  the  brown  crinkly  hair  breaking  out 
from  under  a  small  straw  hat  worn  jauntily  askew,  Bessie 
paused  upon  the  threshold,  her  eyes  a-sparkle  with  ex 
pectancy. 

"John!"  she  exclaimed,  with  a  little  shriek  of  joy. 
"  You  —  you  old  dear !  "  and  she  came  literally  bounding 
across  the  room  to  greet  him  as  he  rose  and  advanced 
eagerly. 

Hampstead  thought  he  had  never  seen  such  a  glowing 
picture  of  animal  health  and  exuberance  of  life. 

"  Well ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Mitchell,  addressing  her 
daughter  with  chiding  in  her  tones.  "  Why  don't  you 
throw  your  arms  around  him  and  be  done  with  it?  " 

Bessie  blushed,  but  John  covered  her  confusion  by  ex 
claiming  : 

"  I  almost  did  that  myself,  Mrs.  Mitchell,  I  was  so  glad 
to  see  her !  "  Whereupon  he  laughed  hilariously,  it  was 
such  a  good  joke;  and  Bessie  laughed,  turning  her  face 
well  away  from  her  mother,  while  Mrs.  Mitchell  laughed 
most  heartily  of  all  at  the  thought  of  John  Hampstead 
putting  his  arms  around  any  woman,  except,  of  course, 
as  he  might  have  done  in  the  practice  of  his  late  profession. 

"  And  now,"  declared  Mrs.  Mitchell,  as  she  managed 
the  last  button  of  her  glove,  "  I  must  abandon  you  to  your 
selves;  but  don't  sit  here  paying  compliments.  Get  out 
into  the  air  somewhere." 

"  Oh,  let's,"  assented  Bessie,  with  animation.  "  Only 
wait  till  I  change  my  hat !  " 

"  Don't,"  pleaded  John.     "  I  like  that  one." 

"  But  I  have  another  you'll  like  better,"  called  Bessie 


WHEN  DREAMS  COME  TRUE  175 

over  her  shoulder,  for  already  she  was  racing  out  of  the 
room  past  her  mother. 

"  Good-by.  Have  a  good  time !  "  Mrs.  Mitchell  lifted 
her  voice  toward  her  daughter  racing  up  the  stairs,  and 
then  turning,  waved  her  ridiculous  folding  sunshade  at 
John  as  she  adjured :  "  Give  her  your  very  best  advice !  " 

"  Never  doubt  it,"  echoed  John,  with  the  sudden  feel 
ing  of  a  man  who  is  left  alone  in  a  house  to  guard  great 
riches. 

"How  do  you  like  it?" 

Bessie  had  taken  a  whole  half -hour  to  change  her  hat, 
but  her  dress  had  been  changed  as  well,  to  something  white 
and  filmy  that  reached  below  the  shoe-tops  and  by  those 
few  inches  of  extra  length  added  a  surprising  look  of 
maturity  to  the  pliant  youth  fulness  of  her  figure.  This 
was  heightened  by  a  surplice  effect  in  the  bodice  forming 
a  V,  which  accentuated  the  rounded  fullness  of  the  bosom 
and  gave  a  hint  of  the  charm  and  power  of  a  most  be 
witching  woman,  ripening  swiftly  underneath  the  artless 
beauty  of  the  girl. 

"  Wonderful !  "  John  exclaimed  rapturously,  rising  as 
she  entered. 

Bessie's  mood  was  lightly  happy.  His  was  deeply 
reverent,  and  there  was  a  world  of  devotion  and  tender 
ness  in  the  look  he  gave  her,  which  thrilled  through  the 
girl  like  an  ecstasy. 

All  the  past  was  coming  up  to  John's  mind,  all  the  long 
past  of  their  friendship  with  its  gradual  ripening  into 
normal,  all-comprehending  love,  but  still  he  was  searching 
her  uplifted  face  as  if  for  a  final  confirmation  of  the  one 
ness  of  the  vision  of  his  love  with  this  materialization  of 
youth  and  woman  mingling ;  for  he  must  make  no  mistake 
this  time. 

Yes,  the  confirmation  was  complete.     It  was  the  true 


176  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

face  of  his  dream.  In  it  was  everything  which  he  had 
hoped  to  find  there.  Marien  Dounay  had  made  woman 
mean  more  to  him  than  woman  had  ever  meant  before. 
But  here  in  the  upturned,  trusting  face  of  Bessie,  with 
its  sparkle  in  the  eyes  and  its  sunny  witchery  in  the 
dimples,  there  was  something  infinitely  richer  and  more 
satisfying  than  experience  or  imagination  had  been  able 
to  suggest. 

Here,  he  told  himself  reverently,  was  every  blessing 
that  God  had  compounded  for  the  happiness  of  man.  And 
it  was  his, —  modestly,  trustfully  his.  Every  detail  of 
her  expression  and  her  beauty,  every  subtly  playing  cur 
rent  of  her  personality,  made  him  know  it.  He  had  but 
to  declare  himself  and  reach  out  and  take  her  like  a 
lover. 

But,  strangely,  he  could  do  neither.  An  awe  was  on 
him.  He  felt  like  falling  down  upon  his  knees  and  thank 
ing  God,  but  not  like  taking  her;  not  like  touching  her 
even,  though  he  could  not  resist  that  when  Bessie  extended 
frankly  both  her  hands,  quite  in  the  old  manner  of  cordial, 
happy  comradeship.  John  took  them  in  his,  and  as  she 
returned  his  touch  with  the  warm  frank  clasp  that  was 
characteristic  of  her  hearty  nature,  he  got  anew  the  sense 
of  the  woman  in  her.  It  swept  over  him  like  an  intoxica 
tion  that  was  rare  and  wonderful,  like  no  rapture  he  had 
ever  known  before  —  half-spiritual  but  half  wholly 
human  —  therefore  with  something  in  it  that  frightened 
him. 

"  Bessie,"  he  asked,  abruptly,  "  could  we  get  away  from 
here  quickly  —  in  a  very  few  minutes  —  away  from  men 
and  houses  and  things?  " 

Bessie  looked  surprised.  "Of  course ;  we're  going  out, 
aren't  we?" 

"  But  quickly,"  urged  John,  "  just  a  mad  impulse,  just 
a  romantic  impulse ;  the  feeling  that  I  want  to  get  you  out 


WHEN  DREAMS  COME  TRUE  177 

of  doors.  You  are  like  a  flower  to  me,  just  bursting  into 
beautiful  bloom.  Better  still,  a  wonderful  fruit,  which 
in  some  sheltered  spot  has  grown  unplucked  to  a  rich 
tinted  ripeness.  You  are  so  much  a  part  of  nature,  so 
utterly  unartificial,  that  it  seems  I  must  see  you  and  enjoy 
you  first  in  a  setting  of  nature's  own." 

This  was  the  frankest  acknowledgment  of  her  beauty 
and  its  appeal  to  him  that  John  had  ever  made.  It  seemed 
to  Bessie  that  he  made  it  now  rather  unconsciously;  but 
she  saw  that  he  felt  it  and  was  moved  by  it.  To  see  this 
gave  her  another  delicious  thrill  of  happiness.  Indeed 
her  girlish  breast  was  all  a-tremble  with  joys,  with  curi 
osities,  with  expectancies.  She,  too,  felt  something  won 
derful  and  intoxicating  in  this  slight  physical  contact  of 
her  lover's  fingers.  She  felt  herself  upon  the  verge  of 
new  and  mysterious  discoveries  and  recognized  the  natu 
ralness  of  the  instinct  to  meet  them  under  the  vaulted  blue 
with  the  warm  sun  shining  and  the  tonic  breezes  blowing 
past. 

"  Your  impulse  is  right,  John,"  Bessie  answered,  with 
quick  assent  and  an  energetic  double  shake  of  the  hands 
that  held  her  own,  and  they  went  out  into  the  sunny 
street. 

Not  far  from  the  Mitchell  residence,  on  the  western 
hills  of  Los  Angeles,  is  a  little,  painted  park,  with  a  maple- 
leaf  sheet  of  water  embanked  by  closely  shaved  terraces 
of  green,  and  once  or  twice  a  clump  of  shrubbery  crouch 
ing  so  close  over  graveled  walks  as  to  suggest  the  thrill 
of  something  wild.  From  one  of  these  man-made 
thickets  a  toy  promontory  juts  into  the  lake.  Upon  this 
point,  as  if  it  were  a  lighthouse,  is  a  rustic  house,  octag 
onal  in  shape,  with  benches  upon  its  inner  circumference. 
Embowered  at  the  back,  screened  half  way  on  the  sides, 
and  with  the  open  lake  before,  this  snug  structure  affords 
a  delicious  sense  of  privacy  and  elfin-like  seclusion,  pro- 


178  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

vided  there  be  no  oarsmen  pulling  lazily  or  tiny  sailboat 
loafing  across  the  watery  foreground. 

This  day  there  was  none.  The  stretch  of  lake  in  front 
stared  vacantly.  The  birds  twittered  in  the  boughs  be 
hind,  unguardedly.  The  perfume  of  jasmine  or  orange 
blossoms  or  honeysuckle  or  of  love  was  wafted  through 
the  rustic  lattices;  and  here  John  and  Bessie,  seated  side 
by  side,  were  able  to  feel  themselves  alone  in  the  universe. 

But  it  was  so  delightful  just  to  have  each  other  thus 
alone  and  know  that  at  any  moment  the  great  words  so 
long  preparing  might  be  spoken,  that  instinctively  they 
postponed  the  blissful  moment  of  avowal,  with  vagrant 
talk  on  widely  scattered  subjects.  Indeed,  it  seemed  to 
each  that  any  word  the  other  spoke  was  music,  and  any 
thing  was  blissful  that  engaged  their  minds  in  mutual 
contemplation.  But  nearer  and  nearer  to  themselves  the 
subjects  of  conversation  drew  until  they  talked  of  their 
careers. 

John,  they  agreed,  was  going  to  be  something  big, — 
very,  very  big;  though  he  still  did  not  know  what,  and  in 
the  meantime  he  was  going  to  make  money,  yet  not  for 
money's  sake. 

As  for  Bessie,  she,  too,  had  developed  an  ambition  and 
surprised  John  into  delightful  little  raptures  with  her 
statement  of  it. 

"  This  country  has  been  keeping  bachelor's  hall  long 
enough,"  she  dogmatized,  placing  one  slim  finger  affirma 
tively  in  the  center  of  one  white  palm.  "  Women  are 
going  to  have  more  to  do  with  government.  Here  in 
California  we'll  be  voting  in  a  few  years.  When  it  comes, 
John,  I'm  going  to  be  ready  for  it." 

The  idea  seemed  so  strange  at  first, —  this  dimpled 
creature  voting, —  that  John  could  not  repress  a  smile. 
But  Bessie,  her  blue  eyes  round  and  sober,  was  too  earnest 
to  protest  the  smile. 


WHEN  DREAMS  COME  TRUE  179 

"  Father's  going  up  the  line ;  you  know  that,  of  course/' 
she  affirmed.  "  He'll  be  a  big  man  and  rich  almost  before 
we  know  it ;  but  they're  not  going  to  make  any  social  buzz- 
buzz  out  of  little  Bessie.  That's  why  I'm  aiming  at  Stan 
ford.  I'm  going  in  for  political  economy.  When 
woman's  opportunity  comes,  there  are  lots  of  women  that 
will  be  ready  for  it.  I'm  going  to  be  one  of  them." 

Bessie  nodded  her  head  so  emphatically  that  some 
crinkly  brown  locks  fell  roguishly  about  her  ears,  and 
John  was  obliged  to  smile  again ;  but  for  all  that  the  big 
man  was  very  proud  of  the  purpose  so  seriously  an 
nounced.  Besides,  with  Bessie's  manner  more  than  her 
words  there  went  an  impression  of  the  growing  depth  and 
dignity  of  her  character  that  was  to  John  as  delightful  as 
some  other  things  his  eyes  were  boldly  busy  in  observing. 
But  presently  these  busy  observations  and  reflections 
kindled  in  him  again  an  overwhelming  sense  of  the  wealth 
of  woman  in  this  aspiring,  dimpled  girl.  With  this  went 
an  exciting  vision  of  the  bliss  which  life  holds  in  store  for 
any  mutually  adapted  man  and  woman  where  each  is  con 
sumed  with  desire  for  the  other. 

"  Bessie !  "  he  broke  out  impulsively,  arising  quickly  and 
looking  down  into  her  upturned,  intent  face.  "  Doesn't 
everything  we've  just  been  talking  about  seem  unimpor 
tant?" 

Bessie's  features  expressed  wonder  and  delightful  an 
ticipation. 

"  Beside  ourselves,  I  mean,"  John  went  on,  and  then 
added  impetuously:  "To  me,  this  afternoon,  there  is 
just  one  fact  in  the  universe,  Bessie,  and  that  fact  is 
You ! " 

The  light  of  a  shining  happiness  kindled  like  a  flash  on 
the  girl's  face,  and  she  threw  out  her  hands  to  him  in  the 
old  impulsive  way. 

"  Just  one  thing  I  feel,"  John  rushed  along,  seizing  the 


i8o  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

outstretched  hands  and  playfully  but  tenderly  lifting  her 
until  she  stood  before  him,  "  just  one  thing  that  I  want  to 
do  in  the  world  above  everything  else,  and  that  is  to  love 
you,  Bessie,  to  love  you !  " 

The  words  as  he  breathed  them  seemed  to  come  up  out 
of  the  deeps  of  a  nature  rich  in  knowledge  of  what  such 
love  could  mean. 

Bessie,  her  face  enraptured,  did  not  speak,  but  her 
dimples  behaved  skittishly,  and  there  was  a  sharp  little 
catch  of  her  breath. 

"  Just  one  ambition  stands  out  above  every  other,"  con 
tinued  the  man  with  a  noble  earnestness  — "  the  ambition 
to  make  you  happy  —  to  protect  you,  to  worship  you,  and 
to  help  you  do  the  things  you  want  to  do  in  the  world. 
For  marriage  isn't  a  selfish  thing!  It  doesn't  mean  the 
extinction  of  a  woman's  career  in  order  that  a  man  may 
have  his.  It  is  the  surrender  of  each  to  the  other  for  the 
greater  happiness  and  the  higher  power  of  both." 

Suddenly  a  choke  came  in  the  big  man's  voice. 

"  That's  what  I  feel,  my  dear  girl,"  he  concluded 
abruptly,  with  an  excess  of  reverence  in  his  tones,  "  and 
that's  what  I  want  to  do !  " 

As  he  spoke,  John  had  lifted  her  hands  higher  and 
higher  till  one  rested  on  each  of  his  shoulders.  Man  and 
woman,  they  looked  straight  into  each  other's  eyes,  as  they 
had  that  day  upon  the  cliff,  but  this  time  it  was  his  lip  that 
quivered  and  his  eyes  that  misted  over. 

Bessie,  sobered  for  a  moment  almost  to  a  sense  of  un- 
worthiness,  as  she  felt  all  at  once  what  it  meant  for  a 
great-hearted  man  to  so  declare  himself  to  a  woman,  saw 
something  in  that  growing  mist  which  impelled  her  to 
immediately  reward  the  tenderness  of  such  devotion  with 
a  frank  confession  of  her  own. 

"  Well,"  she  breathed  naively,  "  you  have  my  permis 
sion  to  do  all  those  things.  I'm  sure,  John,  the  biggest 


WHEN  DREAMS  COME  TRUE  181 

fact,  the  biggest  love,  the  biggest  career  in  the  world  for 
me  is  just  you !  " 

Bessie  accompanied  the  words  with  an  ecstatic  little 
shrug  of  the  shoulders  and  a  self -abandoning  toss  of  the 
head. 

Reverently  John  pressed  his  lips  upon  hers  and  held 
her  close  for  a  very,  very  long  time;  while  a  thrill  of  in 
describable  bliss  surged  over  and  engulfed  him.  His 
embrace  was  gentle,  even  reverent ;  but  it  seemed  he  could 
not  let  her  out  of  his  arms.  Here  at  last  was  one  treas 
ure  he  could  never  surrender;  one  renunciation  he  could 
never  make. 

"  And  to  think,"  sighed  Bessie,  after  a  long  and  bliss 
ful  silence,  finding  such  rapture  in  nestling  in  those  strong 
arms  that  she  was  still  unwilling  to  lift  her  head  from 
where  she  could  feel  the  beating  of  his  happy  heart,  "  to 
think  how  long  we  have  loved  each  other  without  ex 
pressing  it;  how  loyal  we  have  been  to  each  other's  love 
even  before  we  had  grown  to  recognize  it  for  what  it 
truly  was." 

Bessie  looked  up  suddenly.  It  seemed  to  her  that 
John's  heart  had  done  a  funny  thing;  that  it  staggered 
and  missed  a  beat. 

But  John  ignored  her  look.  His  face  was  set  and 
stubborn.  He  changed  his  position  slightly  and  gathered 
her  yet  more  determinedly  in  his  arms,  so  that  Bessie  felt 
again  how  strong  he  was,  and  how  much  it  means  to 
woman's  life  to  add  a  strength  like  that. 

"  Do  you  know,  John,"  she  prattled  presently,  out  of 
the  deepening  bliss  which  this  enormous  sense  of  se 
curity  inspired,  "  do  you  know  that  I  used  to  fear  for 
you?  For  me  rather!  To  fear,"  she  exclaimed  with  a 
happily  apologetic  little  laugh,  "  that  you  might  fall  in 
love  with  Marien  Dounay !  " 

But  the  laugh  ended  in  a  choke  of  surprise,  when 


182  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

Bessie  felt  the  body  of  the  big  man  shiver  like  a  tree  in  a 
blast. 

"Why?  Why?  What  is  the  matter,  John?"  she 
asked  in  helpless  bewilderment,  for  the  odd  face  with  a 
profile  like  a  mountain  had  taken  on  a  look  of  pain,  and 
while  she  questioned  him,  he  put  her  from  him  and 
with  a  low  groan  sank  down  upon  the  bench. 

The  little  summer  house  was  still  undisturbed  by  the 
rude,  annoying  outer  world;  but  its  atmosphere  had 
subtly  changed.  A  chill  wind  blew  through  the  shrub 
bery  and  the  fragrance  of  bush  and  flower  was  gone. 
Even  the  sun,  as  if  he  could  not  bear  to  look,  had  dropped 
behind  the  hill;  for  something  had  edged  between  the 
lovers. 

Bessie's  artless  words  made  John  remember  as  very, 
very  near,  what,  during  this  delicious  hour  in  her  pres 
ence,  had  seemed  to  be  worlds  and  worlds  behind  him, 
in  fact  made  him  feel  his  shame  and  guilt  so  deeply  that 
he  could  no  longer  hold  her  in  his  arms.  Then  the 
story  of  his  infatuation  for  Marien  Dounay  came  out,  as 
he  had  always  felt  it  must,  sometime,  for  the  purging 
of  his  own  soul,  even  if  it  were  she  who  would  suffer 
most, —  the  old,  old  law  of  vicarious  suffering  again ! 

Bessie  listened  with  white,  set  face,  while  John  reso 
lutely  spared  himself  nothing  in  the  telling,  but  when  the 
look  of  hurt  and  pain  took  up  its  abode  permanently  in 
those  mild  blue  eyes,  a  feeling  of  yet  more  terrible  mis 
giving  overtook  him  and  he  would  have  checked  the 
story  if  he  could.  But  once  started,  his  natural  shrink 
ing  from  hypocrisy  compelled  him  to  tell  the  truth. 

"  You  can  never  know  how  I  have  reproached  myself 
for  it,"  he  concluded.  "  I  have  suffered  agonies  of  re 
morse.  Wild  with  love  of  you,  and  the  impulse  to  de 
clare  that  love,  I  have  stayed  away  six  months.  It 


WHEN  DREAMS  COME  TRUE  183 

seemed  to  me  at  first  that  I  could  hardly  get  my  own  con 
sent  to  come  at  all  from  her  to  you;  that  I  must  doom 
myself  to  perpetual  loneliness  to  expiate  my  sin.  And 
yet,  Bessie,"  John  made  the  mistake  of  trying  to  ex 
tenuate,  "  it  was  probably  not  altogether  unnatural,  know 
ing  man  as  I  begin  to  know  him." 

To  the  young  girl,  facing  the  first  bitter  disillusion 
ment  of  love,  it  came  like  a  flash  of  intuition  that  this 
last  was  true ;  that  men  were  like  that  —  all  men !  They 
were  mere  brutes !  This  intuition  maddened  the  girl, 
and  her  disturbed  emotions  expressed  themselves  in  a 
burst  of  flaming  anger. 

"  You  may  go  back  to  Marien  Dounay,"  she  exclaimed 
hotly.  "  I  do  not  want  her  left-overs." 

"  But,"  protested  John,  with  something  of  that  sense 
of  injury  which  a  man  is  apt  to  feel  if  forgiveness  does 
not  follow  soon  upon  confession,  "  you  do  not  under 
stand!" 

"  I  understand,"  retorted  Bessie  with  blazing  sarcasm, 
"  that  you  fell  hopelessly  in  love  with  this  woman ;  that 
you  embraced  her,  kissed  her,  worshipped  the  ground  she 
trod  on ;  that  you  proposed  to  marry  her  almost  upon  the 
spot;  that  she  refused  you  and  drove  you  from  her;  that 
for  a  month  you  wrote  me  letters  of  hypocritical  pre 
tense  ;  that  when  she  finally  not  only  repulsed  you  but  re 
vealed  herself  to  you  as  a  woman  without  character,  you 
considerately  revived  your  affections  for  me." 

John  felt  that  in  this  storm  of  words  some  injustice 
was  being  done  him ;  yet  he  could  not  deny  that  such  an 
outburst  of  wrath  upon  Bessie's  part  was  natural,  and  he 
humbled  himself  before  the  blast. 

In  the  vehemence  of  her  demonstration,  Bessie  had 
arisen,  and  after  the  final  word  stood  with  her  back  to 
her  lover,  looking  out  upon  the  little  lake  which  suddenly 
seemed  a  frozen  sheet  of  ice. 


184  HELD  TO  ANSWER 


"Bessie!'*  John  murmured  huskily,  after  an  interval. 

"  Don't  speak  to  me,  don't !  "  she  commanded  hoarsely, 
without  turning  her  head. 

John  obeyed  her  so  humbly  and  so  completely  that  she 
began  to  wonder  if  he  were  still  there,  or  if  he  had  sunk 
through  the  ground  in  the  shame  and  mortification  which 
she  knew  well  enough  possessed  him. 

When  she  had  wondered  long  enough,  she  turned  and 
found  him  not  only  there  but  in  a  pose  so  abject  and 
utterly  remorseful  that  her  heart  softened  until  she  felt 
the  need  of  self- justification. 

"  You  were  my  god,"  she  urged.  "  You  inspired  me ! 
I  worshipped  you !  I  thought  you  were  as  fine  a  man  as 
my  own  father  —  and  finer  because  you  had  a  finer  ambi 
tion.  I  thought  you  were  grand,  noble,  strong !  "  Bessie 
stopped  with  her  emphasis  heavy  upon  the  final  word. 

"  Is  not  the  strong  man  the  one  who  has  found  in 
what  his  weakness  lies  ?  "  John  pleaded  humbly. 

But  as  before,  his  attempt  at  palliation  seemed  to  anger 
lier  unaccountably,  and  she  turned  away  again  with  feel 
ings  too  intense  for  utterance  —  with,  in  fact,  a  dismal 
sense  of  the  futility  of  utterance.  She.  wanted  to  get 
away  from  John.  She  wished  he  would  not  stand  there 
barring  the  door.  She  wished  he  would  go  while  her 
back  was  turned.  A  sense  of  humiliation  greater  than 
had  possessed  him,  she  was  sure,  had  come  over  her.  If 
the  lake  in  front  had  been  sixty  feet  deep  instead  of  six 
inches,  she  might  have  flung  herself  into  it. 

"  But  you  love  me ! "  pleaded  John  from  behind  her, 
his  voice  coming  up  out  of  depths. 

"  Do  you  think  I  would  care  how  many  actresses  you 
lost  your  dizzy  head  over  if  I  didn't?"  retorted  Bessie 
petulantly,  and  instantly  would  have  given  several  worlds 
to  recall  the  speech. 

"  No !     No !  "  she  continued,  stamping  her  foot  an- 


"  Don't  speak  to  me,  don't !  "  she  commanded  hoarsely. 
Page  184. 


WHEN  DREAMS  COME  TRUE  185 

grily,  "  I  don't  love  you.  I  love  the  man  I  thought  you 
were/' 

"  All  the  same,  I  love  you,"  groaned  John,  rising  up 
to  proclaim  his  passion  hoarsely  and  then  flinging  him 
self  again  upon  the  bench,  where  with  head  hanging 
despondently,  he  continued :  "  I  love  you,  and  I  don't 
blame  you  for  hating  me,  and  you  can  punish  me  as  long 
as  you  want  and  in  any  way  you  want.  You  can  even 
try  to  fall  in  love  with  some  one  else  if  you  like.  Marry 
him  if  you  want  to.  I  love  you,  and  I'll  keep  on  loving 
you.  No  punishment  is  too  great  for  the  thing  I've 
done." 

The  effect  of  this  speech  on  the  outraged  Bessie  was 
rather  alarming  to  that  indignant  young  lady.  When 
John  began  to  heap  the  reproaches  higher  upon  himself, 
she  felt  a  return  to  sympathetic  consideration  for  him 
that  was  so  great  she  dared  not  trust  herself  to  hear  more 
of  them. 

"  Take  me  home !  "  she  commanded  hurriedly,  walk 
ing  swiftly  by  him,  but  with  scrupulous  care  that  the 
swish  of  her  white  skirts  should  not  touch  the  bowed 
head  as  she  passed,  and  no  more  trusting  herself  to  a 
second  glance  at  that  dejected  tawny  mop  of  hair  than 
to  hear  more  of  his  self -indictment. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE   HOUSE  DIVIDED 

AFTER  parting  from  Bessie  at  her  father's  door,  John 
spent  twenty- four  hours  in  dumb  agony  at  his  hotel,  de 
voting  much  time  to  uncounted  attempts  to  frame  a  letter 
to  her.  But  the  one  which  finally  went  by  the  hands  of 
a  messenger  was  a  mere  cry  that  broke  out  of  his  heart. 
All  it  brought  back  was  an  answering  cry, —  four  pages 
with  impetuous  words  rioting  over  them.  There  were 
splotches  of  ink  where  the  pen  had  been  urged  too  reck 
lessly,  and  as  John  held  it  up  to  the  electric  light,  he  tried 
to  imagine  there  were  watery  stains  upon  it. 

That  night  Hampstead  left  Los  Angeles  for  San  Fran 
cisco  and  spent  an  aimless  Saturday  brooding  upon  the 
ocean  beach,  needing  no  sight  of  the  jutting  Cliff  House 
rocks  upon  which  his  lips  had  first  touched  Bessie's  to  em 
bitter  his  reflections.  Sunday  morning,  however,  as 
early  as  nine  o'clock,  found  him  threading  the  graveled 
paths  of  the  little  park  in  Encina,  and  taking  his  place 
upon  the  rustic  bench  across  from  the  dingy  chapel.  The 
cleat  remained  on  the  door.  God  was  still  nailed  up ! 

John  could  not  help  thinking  that  he,  too,  was  rather 
nailed  up.  Drawing  Bessie's  last  letter  from  his  pocket, 
he  held  it  very  tenderly  for  a  time  in  his  hand,  then  opened 
it  to  the  final  paragraph,  which  his  eyes  read  dimly 
through  a  mist  that  overspread  his  vision  like  a  curtain  of 
fog. 

"  I  shall  always  love  you,  John,"  her  pen  had  sobbed, 
" — always;  or  at  least,  it  seems  so  now.  But  you  have 


THE  HOUSE  DIVIDED  187 

hurt  me  in  what  touches  a  woman  nearest.  I  have  tried 
to  understand  —  I  think  I  have  forgiven  —  but  that  full 
confiding  trust !  —  Oh,  John !  " 

The  letter  didn't  cut  off  hope  exactly;  but  it  didn't 
kindle  any  bonfires,  either.  As  John  read  it,  he  felt  for 
lorn  and  helpless,  and  perceived  that  he  had  made  rather  a 
mess  of  things  generally. 

And,  in  the  meantime,  there  was  absolutely  nothing 
more  important  for  him  to  do  than  to  sit  on  the  park  bench 
before  this  wretched-looking,  dishonored  little  church 
and  watch  to  see  whether  any  children  came  to  Sunday 
school. 

Yes, —  two  were  coming  now.  One  was  a  little  girl 
of  six  or  seven,  in  a  smock  immaculately  white.  She  was 
bareheaded,  but  her  flaxen  locks  were  bound  with  a  bright 
blue  ribbon  that  just  matched  the  blue  of  her  eyes.  Her 
stockings  were  white,  and  her  shoes  were  patent  leather 
and  very  shiny.  She  walked  with  precise,  proud  steps, 
and  looked  down  occasionally  at  the  glinting  tips  of  her 
toes  to  make  sure  that  they  were  still  unspotted.  Once 
she  stopped  and  touched  them  daintily  with  the  handker 
chief  she  carried  in  her  hand,  and  then  glanced  up  and 
around  swiftly  with  a  guilty  look. 

By  her  side  walked  little  brother.  He  might  have  been 
four.  He  might  have  been  wearing  his  first  pants;  his 
feet  might  have  been  uncomfortable;  the  elastic  cord  on 
his  hat  might  have  been  pinching  his  throat  most  irri- 
tatingly,  and  probably  was;  but  for  all  of  that  he  trudged 
along  sturdily,  as  careful  of  his  four-year-old  dignity  as 
his  sister  obviously  was  of  her  motherly  office. 

He  stretched  his  legs,  too,  to  take  as  long  steps  as  she, 
which  was  not  so  difficult,  because  his  sister  minced  her 
gait  a  little. 

Together  they  swung  around  the  corner,  and  their 
feet  pattered  on  the  board  walk  leading  across  the  sod 


i88  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

to  the  chapel.  Involuntarily  they  stopped  a  moment 
where  Elder  Burbeck  had  borrowed  the  plank,  then 
stepped  over  the  hole  and  mounted  with  confident,  strain 
ing  steps  to  the  platform.  The  sister  was  now  a  little  in 
advance,  one  hand  holding  her  brother's  and  lifting 
stoutly  as  he  struggled  to  surmount  the  unnatural  height. 

But  the  door  of  the  church  was  closed.  This  non 
plussed  the  little  lady  for  just  a  second,  after  which  she 
thrust  up  her  chubby  hand  and  gave  the  knob  a  turn.  The 
door  did  not  respond.  She  rattled  the  knob  protestingly, 
and  then,  looking  higher,  saw  the  plank  nailed  across. 

At  this  the  small  miss  stepped  back  confounded,  to  the 
accompaniment  of  childish  murmurings.  Little  brother 
did  not  understand.  He  clamored  to  be  admitted  to  his 
"  Sunny  Kool."  The  little  woman  tried  again,  but  the 
door  baffled  her  most  indifferently.  However,  after  a 
moment  of  wondering  dismay,  this  tiny  edition  of  the 
feminine  retreated  no  farther  than  to  turn  and  sit  down 
upon  the  steps,  first  dusting  them  carefully,  and  inducing 
little  brother  to  sit  beside  her.  Strength  had  been  baffled, 
but  faith  was  still  strong. 

"  The  eternal  woman !  "  commented  John  reverently. 
"  So  Mary  waited  at  the  tomb." 

But  other  children  were  coming,  and  soon  a  fringe  of 
little  bodies  was  sitting  around  the  platform,  and  soon  a 
border  of  little  feet  decorated  the  second  step,  the  girls' 
feet  neatly,  daintily  composed;  the  boys'  feet  restless, 
clumsier,  beating  an  insistent  tattoo  as  they  awaited  the 
appearance  of  some  grown-up  who  could  admit  them  or 
explain. 

"Teacher!     Teacher!" 

One  little  girl  set  up  the  shout,  and  like  a  bevy  the 
smaller  children  swarmed  across  the  street  and  into  the 
park  to  meet  a  very  slender  girl,  perhaps  sixteen  years  of 
age,  with  her  light  brown  hair  in  half  a  dozen  long,  roll- 


THE  HOUSE  DIVIDED  189 

ing  curls  that,  snared  at  the  neck  by  a  wide  ribbon,  hung 
half  way  down  her  back. 

Attended  eagerly  by  this  childish  court,  the  babble  of 
their  voices  rising  about  her,  the  girl  mounted  the  steps, 
stood  a  moment  in  confusion  before  the  locked  and  barred 
door,  then  looked  about  her  helplessly,  almost  as  the  chil 
dren  had  done. 

"  This  is  my  cue,"  John  declared  with  decision,  rising 
from  his  seat  and  crossing  to  the  chapel. 

"  My  name's  Hampstead,"  he  began,  taking  off  his  hat 
to  the  girl.  "  I  belong  to  the  First  Church,  Los  Angeles." 

"  How  do  you  do,  Brother  Hampstead,"  she  responded, 
in  a  voice  that  expressed  instant  confidence,  while  her 
large  eyes,  blue  as  the  sky,  lighted  with  pleasure  and  re 
lief.  "  I  am  Helen  Plummer,  teacher  of  the  infant  class." 

"  You  seem  to  be  embarrassed,"  John  proceeded. 

"Whatever  shall  I  do?"  confessed  the  young  lady, 
looking  at  the  barred  door,  at  her  charges  about  her,  and 
at  John. 

John  laid  his  hand  upon  the  plank  at  the  end  where  it 
projected  beyond  the  edge  of  the  little,  coop-like  vestibule, 
and  gave  it  a  tentative  pull.  It  did  not  spring  much. 
Burbeck's  nails  had  been  long,  and  he  had  driven  them 
deep.  But  John  was  strong.  He  swung  his  weight  upon 
the  end  of  the  plank  and  it  gave  a  little.  He  swung 
harder,  and  it  yielded  more.  Presently  he  heard  a 
squeaking,  protesting  sound  from  the  straining  nails,  and 
increased  his  efforts  till  the  veins  knotted  on  his  fore 
head. 

"  Bet  y'  he  can't,"  speculated  an  urchin  whose  chubby 
toes  were  frankly  barefoot  and  energetically  digging  into 
the  sod  of  the  lawn. 

"  Bet  yuh  he  will,"  instantly  countered  another,  shifting 
his  gum. 

"  Oh,  I  do  hope  you  can !  "  sighed  the   fairy  thing 


190  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

with  the  curls  down  her  back  and  the  eyes  like  the  sky. 

That  settled  it  for  John.  This  plank  was  coming  off. 
Nevertheless,  there  was  a  pause  while  he  mopped  his 
brow  and  considered.  The  result  of  these  considerations 
was  to  fall  back  for  reinforcement  on  two  cobbles  of  un 
equal  size  chosen  from  the  gutter,  the  larger  of  which  he 
used  as  a  hammer  while  the  smaller  served  as  a  wedge,  till, 
with  a  final  wrench,  the  plank  came  free. 

But  Elder  Burbeck  had  locked  the  door. 

"  A  hairpin?  "  queried  John  of  the  sky  blue  eyes. 

"  I  have  not  come  to  hairpins  yet,"  blushed  the  teacher 
of  the  infant  class. 

John  remembered  the  buttonhook  on  his  key  ring,  and 
after  a  few  moments  of  vigorous  attack  with  that  humble 
instrument  the  bolt  shot  accommodatingly  to  one  side  and 
the  door  swung  open. 

"  Thank  you  so  much !  "  exclaimed  the  blue  eyes,  though 
the  red  lips  of  pliant  sixteen  said  never  a  word,  but  framed 
themselves  in  a  very  pretty  smile. 

John  acknowledged  the  smile  with  one  of  his  broadest. 
At  the  same  time,  he  reflected  that  Miss  Helen's  failure  to 
regard  as  seriously  unusual  either  the  barred  door  or 
its  violent  opening  was  significant  of  the  state  to  which 
affairs  in  the  little  church  had  come;  and  it  was  with  a 
grim  sense  of  duty  well  performed  that  the  big  man  fol 
lowed  the  trooping  children  into  the  chapel  and  looked 
about  him. 

The  building  was  small,  yet  somehow  it  appeared  larger 
inside  than  out.  The  utmost  simplicity  marked  its  fur 
nishings.  The  seats  were  divided  by  two  aisles  into  a 
central  block  of  sittings  and  two  side  blocks.  The  pulpit 
was  a  mere  elevated  platform  at  one  side,  flanked  by  lower 
platforms,  one  of  which  supported  a  cabinet  organ.  The 
dull  red  carpet  upon  the  floor  was  dreary  looking ;  but  the 
walls  and  ceilings  were  neatly  white,  giving  a  suggestion 


THE  HOUSE  DIVIDED  191 

of  lightness  and  cheer  quite  out  of  harmony  with  the  cir 
cumstances  under  which  John  had  entered  it. 

The  twenty  or  more  children  massed  themselves,  as  if 
by  habit,  upon  the  front  seats,  and  presently,  with  Helen 
at  the  organ,  Hampstead  had  them  singing  lustily  one 
song  after  another,  while  the  size  of  the  audience  in 
creased  by  occasional  stragglers  until,  during  the  fourth 
song,  two  women  appeared,  each  rather  breathless,  and 
one  with  unmistakable  evidences  of  having  got  hurriedly 
into  her  clothes.  John  felt  the  eyes  of  the  women  upon 
him  suspiciously,  and  noticed  that  neither  spoke  to  the 
other,  and  that  they  took  seats  on  opposite  sides  of  the 
church. 

At  the  end  of  the  song,  he  walked  over  to  the  older  of 
the  two  ladies,  who  somehow  had  the  look  of  a  wife  and 
mother  in  Israel,  and  said : 

"  My  name's  Hampstead, —  First  Church,  Los  An 
geles." 

"  I'm  Sister  Nelson,"  replied  the  lady,  a  trifle  stiffly. 
"  I  teach  a  class  of  boys.  But  I  thought  the  church  was 
closed  till  I  heard  the  organ.  Are  you  a  minister  ?  " 

"Me?  No!"  And  John  smiled  at  the  thought,  but 
he  also  smiled  engagingly.  Mrs.  Nelson  instantly  liked 
and  accepted  him  and  allowed  her  stiffness  to  melt  some 
what. 

"  I  just  happened  in,"  John  explained,  as  he  turned  to 
cross  toward  the  young  lady  on  the  other  side,  who  ap 
peared,  he  thought,  to  eye  him  rather  more  suspiciously 
after  such  cordial  exchange  with  Mrs.  Nelson. 

"  My  name's  Hampstead,"  he  began.  "  First  Church, 
Los  Angeles.  I  just  happened  in." 

"  I'm  Miss  Armstrong,"  replied  the  lady,  with  convic 
tion,  as  if  it  were  something  important  to  be  Miss  Arm 
strong.  "  I  was  teaching  a  class  of  girls  before  Brother 
Aleshire  left ;  or  rather,  was  driven  away ! "  and  the  lady 


192  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

darted  a  look  that  ran  across  the  little  auditorium  like  a 
silver  wire  straight  at  the  uncompromising  figure  of  Sister 
Nelson.  "  I  thought  there  wasn't  to  be  any  Sunday 
school  until  I  heard  the  organ." 

"  Guess  I'm  responsible  for  that,"  replied  John.  "  I 
just  kind  of  butted  in." 

Miss  Armstrong  did  not  ask  John  if  he  were  a  minister. 
She  knew  it  was  unnecessary  after  he  said  "  butted  in." 
But  she  also  felt  the  warmth  of  his  engaging  smile  and 
yielded  to  it  after  a  searching  moment,  for  he  really  did 
look  like  a  well-meaning  young  man. 

Before  the  pulpit,  and  in  front  of  the  central  block  of 
chairs  where  the  children  were  gathered,  was  a  huge 
irregular  patch  in  the  carpet.  This  patch  was  about  mid 
way  between  the  two  outer  plots  of  chair-backs,  in  the 
midst  of  one  of  which,  like  a  solitary  outpost,  sat  the 
watchful  Mrs.  Nelson,  while  Miss  Armstrong  performed 
grim  sentinel  duty  in  the  other. 

To  this  patch  in  the  carpet,  as  to  the  security  of  neutral 
ground,  John  returned  after  establishing  his  identity  and 
status  with  the  two  ladies,  and  from  that  safely  aloof  posi 
tion,  after  a  moment  of  hesitancy,  ventured  to  announce : 

"  Since  we  seem  somewhat  disorganized  this  morning, 
I  suggest  that  Sister  Nelson  take  all  the  boys,  and  Sister 
Armstrong  take  all  the  girls,  while  Miss  Helen  will  take 
the  little  folks,  as  usual." 

It  was  evident  from  their  respective  expressions  that 
Mrs.  Nelson  did  not  know  about  this  idea,  and  that  Miss 
Armstrong  also  had  her  doubts ;  but  the  children  settled  it. 
The  tots  rushed  for  the  small  platform  on  the  left  of  the 
pulpit  which  had  some  kindergarten  paraphernalia  upon 
it,  while  the  larger  boys  charged  for  Sister  Nelson  and  be 
gan  to  arrange  the  loose  chairs  in  a  circle  about  her.  The 
larger  girls  made  the  same  sort  of  an  advance  upon  Miss 
Armstrong. 


THE  HOUSE  DIVIDED  193 

Within  five  minutes,  preliminaries  were  got  out  of  the 
way,  heads  were  ducked  toward  a  common  center,  and 
there  rose  in  the  little  church  that  low  buzz  of  intense  in 
terest,  possibly  more  apparent  than  real,  which  an  old- 
fashioned  Sunday  school  gives  off  at  recitation  period, 
and  which  is  like  no  other  sound  in  the  world  in  its  ca 
pacity  to  suggest  the  peaceful,  bee-like  hum  of  industry 
and  contentment. 

Standing  meditatively  in  the  center  of  the  open  space 
before  the  pulpit,  thrilling  with  pleasure  at  the  situation, 
feeling  somehow  that  he  had  created  it,  John  heard  with 
apprehension  a  quick  heavy  step  in  the  little  entry,  saw 
the  swinging  inside  doors  give  back,  and  observed  the 
stern,  red  face  of  Elder  Burbeck  confronting  him  across 
the  backs  of  the  middle  bank  of  chairs. 

The  Elder  had  a  fighting  set  to  his  jaw ;  he  had  his  un 
dertaker  hat  upon  his  head ;  and  he  glared  at  John  accus 
ingly  as  if  he  instantly  connected  him  with  the  policy  of 
the  open  door.  But  as  if  to  make  sure  first  just  what 
mischief  had  resulted,  Elder  Burbeck's  glance  swept  the 
room,  taking  in  by  turns  Miss  Armstrong  with  her  girls. 
Sister  Nelson  with  her  boys,  and  Miss  Helen  with  her 
kindergarteners. 

As  the  Elder  gazed,  his  expression  changed  perceptibly, 
and  he  reached  up  and  took  off  his  high  hat,  lowering  it 
slowly,  but  reverently. 

John,  who  had  been  standing  perfectly  still  upon  the 
patch,  meek  but  unabashed,  experienced  an  odd  sensation 
as  he  witnessed  this  manoeuvre.  It  was  dramatic  and  as 
if  some  presence  were  in  the  room  which  the  Elder  had 
not  expected  to  find  there.  Yet,  notwithstanding  this,  the 
apostle  of  the  status  quo  turned  level,  accusing  eyes  upon 
John  across  the  tiers  of  chairs,  and  began  to  advance 
down  the  aisle  upon  the  right  where  Sister  Nelson  had 
seated  herself.  John,  at  the  same  moment,  began  a 


I94  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

strategic  forward  movement  upon  his  own  account,  so 
that  the  two  met  midway. 

"  You  broke  open  the  house  of  the  Lord,"  charged 
Elder  Burbeck  sternly. 

"  You  nailed  it  up,"  rebutted  John  flatly,  his  features 
grave  and  his  whole  face  clothed  in  a  kind  of  dignity  that 
to  Elder  Burbeck  was  as  disconcerting  as  it  was  impres 
sive. 

The  Elder  opened  his  mouth  to  speak  but  closed  it  again 
without  doing  so.  Something  in  the  very  atmosphere  was 
a  rebuke  to  him.  Perhaps  it  was  the  presence  of  the  Pres 
ence!  He  had  indeed  nailed  up  the  house  of  the  Lord! 
He  thought  he  had  done  a  righteous  thing,  but  under  this 
young  man's  eyes,  burning  with  an  odd  spiritual  light, 
before  his  calm,  strong  face,  and  in  the  presence  of  these 
children,  the  accusation  smote  the  Elder  deep.  He  began 
to  suspect  that  he  had  done  a  doubtful  act. 

"  Keep  back  thy  servant  also  from  presumptuous  sins," 
piped  a  high  voice  sharply  at  his  elbow,  and  Elder  Bur- 
beck  started  guiltily,  as  if  his  conscience  had  shouted  the 
sentiment  aloud.  It  was  only  one  of  Sister  Nelson's  boys 
singing  out  the  text ;  nevertheless,  the  Elder  was  as  shaken 
as  if  he  had  heard  a  voice  from  on  high. 

But  at  this  juncture  John  Hampstead  put  out  his  hand 
cordially.  Elder  Burbeck  took  it  —  tentatively,  almost 
grudgingly, —  and  was  again  dismayed  to  feel  how  strong 
that  hand  was  and  to  observe  how,  without  apparent  ef 
fort,  it  shook  him  all  over,  as  it  had  shaken  him  that  day 
upon  the  walk  outside.  Yet  the  Elder  mustered  once 
more  the  spirit  of  protest. 

"  The  church  was  closed  by  order  of  the  District 
Evangelist,"  he  urged,  but  his  urging,  even  to  himself, 
sounded  strangely  lacking  in  force. 

"  It  was  opened  in  the  name  of  Him  who  said  '  Suffer 
little  children  to  come  unto  me  and  forbid  them  not/  "  re- 


You  nailed  it  up,"  rebutted  John  flatly.     Page  194. 


THE  HOUSE  DIVIDED  195 

plied  the  interloper,  quietly  and  emphatically,  but  not  of 
fensively. 

In  the  meanwhile  the  subtle  cordiality  of  John's  man 
ner  did  not  abate  but  seemed  rather  to  grow,  for,  still 
clinging  to  the  Elder's  hand,  Hampstead  walked  with  him 
back  down  the  aisle  to  the  open  space  before  the  pulpit. 
Burbeck  felt  himself  strangely  subdued.  He  was  minded 
to  rebel,  to  flame  up ;  but  somehow  he  couldn't.  Yet  Sis 
ter  Nelson's  eye  was  upon  him,  and  it  would  imperil  his 
own  leadership  to  appear  beaten  by  this  mild-mannered 
young  man  who  assumed  so  much  so  coolly  and  executed 
his  assumptions  so  masterfully.  The  alternative  strategy 
which  suggested  itself  to  the  mind  of  the  Elder  was  to 
take  the  lead  in  showing  that  he  recognized  the  intrusion 
of  Hampstead  as  somehow  an  intervention  from  which 
good  might  come.  To  make  this  strategy  effective,  how 
ever,  action  must  be  immediate ;  but  the  shrewd  Elder  was 
easily  equal  to  that.  Sniffing  the  air  critically  for  a  mo 
ment,  he  announced,  loudly  enough  to  be  heard  by  all, 
even  by  Sister  Nelson,  busy  with  her  boys : 

"  You  need  some  windows  open,  Brother  Hampstead ! 
You  go  on  with  your  superintending;  I'll  attend  to  that 
myself." 

Immediately  the  Elder  laid  his  tall  hat  upon  the  pulpit 
steps  and  busied  himself  with  opening  the  windows  at  the 
top. 

John  watched  him  with  carefully  concealed  amazement, 
until  an  unmistakable  awe  settled  in  upon  him;  for  here 
was  obviously  the  exhibition  of  a  mystery, —  the  demon 
stration  of  a  power  within  him  not  his  own.  Here  was 
something  he  had  not  done;  yet  which  had  been  done 
through  him,  through  the  presence  of  the  Presence. 
As  the  lesson  hour  proceeded,  a  trickling  stream  of 
adults  began  to  filter  in.  Their  attitude,  any  more  than 
Burbeck' s  had  been,  was  not  that  of  people  who  enter  a 


196  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

house  of  worship.  Surprise,  excitement,  conflict  was 
written  on  their  faces.  They  took  seats  in  one  side  sec 
tion  with  Elder  Burbeck  and  Miss  Nelson,  or  upon  the 
other  side  with  Miss  Armstrong ;  and  then,  between  fierce 
looks  across  the  abyss  of  chair-backs  at  the  "  disturbing 
element," — the  other  side  in  a  church  quarrel  is  always 
that, —  they  bent  a  curious  watchful  eye  on  Hampstead. 

At  first  the  notes  of  the  organ  had  notified  those  in  the 
immediate  neighborhood  that  the  house  of  God  was  no 
longer  nailed  up.  Members  of  each  party,  fearful  that 
the  other  might  gain  an  advantage,  began  at  once  to  spread 
the  news  in  person  and  by  telephone,  so  that  now  all  over 
Encina  women  were  struggling  with  hooks  and  eyes  and 
curling  irons,  and  men  were  abandoning  Sunday  papers 
and  slippers  on  shady  porches,  shaving,  dressing,  and 
rushing  in  hot  haste  to  the  battle  line. 

When  the  children  filed  out,  the  opposing  groups  of 
adults  remained  buzzing  among  themselves  like  angry 
hornets,  'but  with  no  more  communication  between  the  two 
ranks  than  bitter  looks  afforded. 

John,  extremely  desirous  of  getting  well  out  of  the  zone 
of  hostilities,  was  actually  afraid  to  leave  these  belligerent 
Christians  alone  together.  He  thought  they  might  break 
into  pitched  battle;  the  women  might  pull  hair,  the  men 
swing  chairs  upon  each  other's  heads.  His  fears  were  ab 
ruptly  heightened  by  a  series  of  violent  bumps  on  the  steps 
outside,  followed  by  a  trundling  sound  in  the  vestibule  as 
if  a  cannon  were  being  unlimbered.  Instantly,  too,  every 
face  in  the  little  chapel  turned  at  the  ominous  sounds,  but 
John  was  puzzled  to  observe  that  the  expression  of  even 
the  bitterest  was  softened  at  the  prospect. 

This  was  explained  in  part  when  there  appeared  through 
the  swinging  inner  doors  not  the  muzzle  of  a  fieldpiece, 
but  a  lady  in  a  wheel  chair,  who,  though  her  dark  hair  had 
begun  to  silver,  was  dressed  in  youthful  white  and  had 


THE  HOUSE  DIVIDED  197 

about  her  the  air  of  one  who  refused  to  allow  mere  in- 
validism  to  triumph  over  the  stoutness  of  her  spirit. 

Her  vehicle  was  propelled  by  a  solemn  looking  Japa 
nese,  and  as  if  by  long  understanding,  one  man  slipped 
forward  immediately  from  each  faction,  and  the  two 
made  a  way  among  the  chairs  for  the  Oriental  to  roll  his 
charge  to  the  exact  center  of  the  unoccupied  middle  bank 
of  sittings. 

Bestowing  on  each  helper  a  look  of  gratitude  from  her 
dark  eyes,  which  were  large  and  luminous,  the  lady  sent 
a  benignant  smile  before  her  round  the  church  like  one 
whose  presence  sweetens  all  about  it.  Evidently  she  was 
one  member  of  the  congregation  who  observed  a  scrupu 
lous  neutrality  while  holding  the  affection  and  regard  of 
all. 

"  The  Angel  of  the  Chair!  "  murmured  Miss  Plummer 
in  John's  ear,  as  she  passed  to  a  seat  with  Miss  Arm 
strong. 

John  looked  again  at  the  form  in  the  chair,  so  frail  and 
orchid-like,  with  its  delicately  chiseled  face  and  its  expres 
sion  of  courageous  spirituality.  Remembering  how  the 
features  of  all  had  softened  at  the  sound  of  the  wheels, 
he  felt  that  she  well  deserved  the  title.  This  impression  of 
her  saintly  character  was  somehow  heightened  by  a  chain 
of  large  jet  beads  ending  in  a  cross  of  the  same  material, 
which  the  whiteness  of  the  gown  outlined  sharply  upon 
her  breast;  so  that  John  found  himself  instinctively  lean 
ing  upon  her  as  a  possible  source  of  inspiration  and 
relief. 

From  her  position  of  carefully  chosen  neutrality,  the 
Angel  of  the  Chair  immediately  beckoned  Miss  Armstrong 
to  her  from  one  side  and  Elder  Burbeck  from  the  other. 
Each  approached,  without  in  any  way  recognizing  the 
presence  of  the  other;  and  Miss  Armstrong  was  appar 
ently  asked  to  detail  what  had  happened,  Burbeck's  part, 


198  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

it  would  seem,  being  to  amend  if  the  narrative  did  his 
faction  less  than  justice. 

The  story  finished,  and  the  Elder  nodding  his  assent  to 
it,  the  Angel  of  the  Chair  dismissed  her  informants  and 
turned  a  welcoming  glance  on  John,  who  advanced  with 
extended  hand,  but  judging  that  his  formula  of  introduc 
tion  was  now  unnecessary. 

"  I  am  Mrs.  Burbeck,"  the  lady  said  pleasantly  in  a  rich 
contralto  voice. 

Hampstead  all  but  gasped.  This  delicate,  spirituelle 
creature  that  hard,  red-faced  partisan's  wife!  It  seemed 
impossible. 

But  Mrs.  Burbeck  was  composedly  taking  from  her  lap 
a  twist  of  tissue  paper  from  which  she  unrolled  a  simple 
boutonniere,  consisting  of  one  very  large,  very  corrugated 
and  very  fragrant  rose  geranium  leaf,  upon  which  a  per 
fect  white  carnation  had  been  laid. 

"  Do  you  know,  Mr.  Hampstead,"  she  went  on  placidly, 
"  what  I  am  going  to  do  ?  "  and  then,  as  John  looked  his 
disclaimer,  continued :  "  I  have  always  been  allowed  the 
privilege  of  bringing  a  flower  for  the  minister's  button 
hole.  Brother  Ingram  would  never  take  his  flower  from 
any  one  else.  When  the  rain  kept  me  away,  he  would  not 
wear  a  flower  at  all.  Brother  Aleshire  also  took  his 
flower  from  me." 

"  But,"  protested  John,  in  sudden  alarm,  "  I  am  not  a 
minister  at  all,  you  know.  I  just  happened  in,  and  I  as 
sure  you  that  all  I  am  thinking  of  now  is  a  way  to  happen 
out." 

The  Angel,  it  appeared,  was  a  woman  with  deeps  of 
calm  strength  in  her. 

;<  You  have  been  a  real  minister  in  what  you  have  done 
this  morning,"  she  said  contentedly,  entirely  undisturbed 
by  John's  embarrassed  frankness. 

"  But  how  am  I  going  to  get  out  from  under?  "  gasped 


THE  HOUSE  DIVIDED  199 

the  young  man,  feeling  more  and  more  that  he  could  trust 
this  woman. 

The  Angel  of  the  Chair  smiled  inspiringly. 

"  The  Scripture  has  no  rule  for  getting  out  from  un 
der,"  she  suggested  quietly,  "  but  there  is  something  about 
not  letting  go  of  the  plow  once  you  have  grasped  the 
handles." 

The  Angel  was  looking  straight  up  at  John  now,  search 
ing  his  eyes  for  a  moment,  then  adding  significantly : 

"  I  do  not  think  you  are  a  quitting  sort  of  person. " 

A  quitting  sort !  John  could  have  blessed  this  woman. 
In  two  sentences  she  had  felt  her  way  to  the  principle  he 
had  tried  to  make  the  very  center  of  his  character, — 
loyalty  to  duty  and  everlasting  persistence.  Some  people 
rather  thought  he  was  a  quitting  sort.  John  knew  he 
was  not,  and  to  prove  it  bent  till  his  buttonhole  was  in  easy 
reach  of  the  hands  uplifted  with  the  flower. 

"  And  what/'  he  asked,  "  does  the  minister  do  when  he 
has  received  this  decoration  from  the  Angel  of  the 
Chair?" 

It  was  Mrs.  Burbeck's  turn  to  feel  a  flush  of  pleasure  at 
this  appellation  from  a  stranger. 

"  Why,"  she  smiled,  her  large  eyes  lighting  persua 
sively,  "  he  goes  into  the  pulpit  and  announces  a  hymn." 

"  Which  I  am  not  going  to  do,"  declared  John,  "  because 
I  should  not  know  what  to  do  next." 

"  In  that  hour  it  shall  be  given  you,"  quoted  the  lady. 

Now  it  was  very  strange,  but  when  Mrs.  Burbeck  quoted 
this,  it  did  not  seem  like  an  appeal  to  faith  at  all,  but  the 
simple  statement  of  a  fact.  It  chimed  in,  too,  with  that 
odd  suggestion  of  the  presence  of  the  Presence,  which  had 
come  to  John  a  while  ago. 

Feeling  thereby  unaccountably  stronger,  and  endued 
with  a  sort  of  moral  authority  as  if  he  had  just  taken  Holy 
Orders  because  of  the  carnation  which  bloomed  so 


200  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

chastely  white  upon  his  breast,  John  squared  his  shoulders 
and  mounted  into  the  pulpit.  There  was  something  that 
God  wanted  to  say  to  these  people,  and  he  accepted  the 
situation  as  an  obvious  call  to  him  to  say  it,  but  when  he 
.essayed  to  speak,  awe  came  upon  him,  as  it  had  a  while  be 
fore. 

"  Brethren,"  he  confessed  humbly,  in  a  voice  barely 
audible  to  all,  "  I  am  not  a  preacher.  I  haven't  got  any 
text,  and  I  don't  know  what  to  say,  except  just  perhaps 
to  tell  you  how  I  happened  to  be  here  this  morning." 

Then  he  told  them  simply  and  unaffectedly  but  with  un 
conscious  eloquence  how  he  happened  to  see  the  church 
nailed  up  and  how  it  sounded  like  the  echo  of  the  blows 
upon  the  cross ;  how,  this  morning,  with  a  sad  ache  in  his 
own  heart,  the  thought  of  the  faith  of  little  children  dis 
turbed  by  that  brutal  plank  upon  the  door  had  brought 
him  all  the  way  over  here  from  his  home  in  San  Francisco 
and  led  him  to  do  what  he  had  done.  He  even  told  them 
of  his  meditative  comparison  between  the  houses  of  peo 
ple  that  looked  so  happy  and  the  house  of  God  that  looked 
so  unhappy. 

But  while  John  was  relating  this  modestly,  yet  with 
some  of  the  fervor  of  unction  and  some  comfortable  de 
gree  of  self-forget  fulness,  he  was  interrupted  by  a  sound 
like  a  sob,  and  looking  down  beyond  Elder  Burbeck  to 
where  Sister  Nelson  sat,  he  was  surprised  to  see  a  hand 
kerchief  before  her  eyes  and  her  shoulders  trembling. 
Over  on  the  other  side,  too,  handkerchiefs  were  out,  so 
that  John  suddenly  realized  that  he  or  somebody  had 
touched  something. 

Who  had  done  it  ?  What  had  caused  it  ?  Once  more 
there  came  to  the  young  man  that  eerie  consciousness  of  a 
power  within  him  not  himself,  and  the  feeling  frightened 
him. 

"  That's  all  I  have  to  say,  brethren,"  he  declared  ab- 


THE  HOUSE  DIVIDED  201 

ruptly,  his  voice  growing  suddenly  hollow.     "  I  am  terri 
fied.     I  want  to  get  away !  " 

Without  even  the  singing  of  a  hymn,  John  lifted  his 
hand,  bowed  his  head,  and  murmured  something  that  was 
to  pass  for  a  benediction. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

HIS- NEXT    ADVENTURE 

YET  once  out  of  the  pulpit,  John's  sense  of  terror 
seemed  to  leave  him.  With  some  of  the  people  coming 
forward  to  press  his  hand  and  even  to  wring  it ;  with  the 
Angel  of  the  Chair  giving  him  a  wonderful  look  from  her 
luminous  eyes,  he  began  to  feel  strangely,  happily  satisfied 
with  himself, —  as  though  adrift  upon  an  unknown  sea 
but  without  fear  and  joyously  eager  for  the  next  adven 
ture. 

That  adventure  came  when  blue-eyed  Helen  of  the  In 
fant  Class  said  pleadingly  : 

"  Oh,  Brother  Hampstead !  Will  you  call  on  Sister 
Sho waiter  this  afternoon  and  read  a  chapter  ?  She  is  very 
ill  and  lonely." 

"  Yes,"  assented  John  recklessly.  "  But  explain  who  it 
is  that's  coming  —  a  book  agent  —  to  read  to  her." 

John  had  no  idea  who  Mrs.  Showalter  was;  but  they 
gave  him  a  number.  He  had  no  idea  what  a  professional 
clergyman  reads  to  a  sick  woman;  but  that  afternoon  he 
pushed  his  little  New  Testament  in  his  hip  pocket  some 
what  as  Brother  Charles  Thompson  Campbell  used  to  do, 
and  went  out  upon  his  errand. 

A  faded,  hollow-eyed,  middle-aged  woman  met  him  at 
the  door,  with  a  face  so  somber  that  in  his  instant  thought 
and  ever  after,  John  dubbed  her  the  Gloom  Woman. 

"  My  name  is  Hampstead,"  he  explained.  "  I  called  to 
see  the  sick  lady." 

"  My   mother ! "   answered   the   woman,    in   tones   as 


HIS  NEXT  ADVENTURE  203 

somber  as  her  countenance.  "  She  has  been  asking  for 
you  for  an  hour.  She  is  very  low  to-day.  The  doctor  is 
with  her  and  he  is  apprehensive." 

Through  air  that  was  close  with  a  sickish,  sweetish 
smell,  accounted  for  by  large  vases  of  flowers  and  by  a 
small  Chinese  censer  with  incense  burning  in  it,  past  fur 
nishings,  that  were  meager,  stuffy,  and  old-fashioned, 
John  was  conducted  to  a  large  square  room  with  the  blinds 
drawn  low.  In  the  center  of  this  room  was  a  huge  black 
walnut  bedstead,  with  the  head  rising  pompously  high. 
By  the  far  side  of  the  bed  sat  a  professional  looking  man 
in  the  fifties,  with  his  chin  buried  in  his  hand  and  his  eyes 
meditatively  fixed  upon  a  very  old  and  dreary  face  amid 
the  banked-up  pillows, —  a  face  of  purplish  hue  that 
seemed  without  expression  except  for  a  lipless,  sunken 
mouth,  and  eyes  that  glowed  dully  under  sagging  heavy 
lids. 

"  Mother! "  said  the  woman,  speaking  loudly,  as  if  to 
waken  a  soul  from  the  depths,  "  this  is  Brother  Hamp- 
stead!" 

The  aged  eyes  roamed  the  shadows  anxiously  for  a  mo 
ment,  while  a  withered  purple  hand  felt  its  way  about 
upon  the  coverlet  till  John  touched  it  timidly  with  his. 
Instantly  and  convulsively  the  old  fingers  gripped  the 
young,  with  a  pressure  that  to  the  caller  was  damp  and 
deathly. 

The  woman  appeared  to  John  almost  lifeless.  He  felt 
embarrassment  and  resentment.  Why  didn't  they  tell 
him  she  was  like  this? 

The  hand  was  tugging  at  him,  too,  like  a  sort  of  under 
tow,  pulling  him  down  and  over.  The  watery  old  eyes 
were  fixed  upon  him.  John's  embarrassment  increased. 
What  did  the  poor  creature  want  ?  To  kiss  him  ?  What 
does  a  minister  do  in  such  a  case,  he  wondered,  sweat 
breaking  out  on  his  brow. 


204  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  I  think  she  wants  to  say  something ;  bend  low  so  you 
can  hear  her,"  suggested  the  mournful  voice  of  the  Gloom 
Woman.  John  bent  over  till  he  felt  the  patient's  hectic 
breath  upon  his  cheek,  and  shrank  from  it. 

"The  minister  of  God!  "  croaked  the  voice  so  faintly 
that  the  words  barely  traveled  the  necessary  six  inches  to 
his  ear. 

No  man  ever  felt  less  like  the  minister  of  God.  Hamp- 
stead  was  hot,  flustered,  self-conscious,  almost  irritated. 

But  again  he  felt  the  hand  like  an  undertow,  tugging 
him  down. 

"  Read  to  me !  "  croaked  the  ghost  of  a  voice. 

This  was  something  to  do.  A  curtain  was  raised 
slightly  so  that  the  visitor  could  see,  and  he  read  the 
twenty-third  Psalm  and  the  twenty- fourth. 

As  Hampstead  read,  his  embarrassment  departed.  He 
began  to  find  a  joy  in  what  he  was  doing.  He  let  his  rich 
voice  play  upon  the  lines  sympathetically  and  had  a  sus 
picion  that  he  could  feel  the  strength  of  the  sick  woman 
reviving  as  he  read. 

"  She  likes  to  have  the  minister  pray  with  her,"  said 
the  voice  of  the  Gloom  Woman  from  the  background, 
when  the  reading  was  concluded. 

Again  John  stood  gazing  helplessly,  till  the  old  hand 
dragged  him  down,  and  sinking  upon  his  knees  beside  the 
bed,  he  found  that  words  came  to  him,  and  he  lost  himself 
in  them.  His  sympathy,  his  faith,  his  own  sore  heart  and 
its  needs,  all  poured  themselves  into  that  prayer. 

Once  or  twice  as  words  flowed  on,  Hampstead  felt  the 
old  hand  tugging,  as  though  the  undertow  were  pulling  at 
it,  and  then  he  noticed  after  a  time  that  he  did  not  feel 
these  tuggings  any  more;  but  when  the  prayer  was  fin 
ished  and  he  rose  from  his  knees,  the  grip  of  the  hand  did 
not  release  itself.  Instead,  the  fingers  hung  on,  rather 
like  hooks,  so  that  John  darted  a  look  of  inquiry  at  the 


HIS  NEXT  ADVENTURE  205 

purplish  face  upon  the  pillows.     To  his  surprise,  the  chin 
had  dropped  and  the  eyes  had  closed  sleepily. 

The  doctor,  who  had  been  sitting  with  his  hand  upon 
the  pulse,  gently  placed  the  wrist  which  he  had  held  across 
the  aged  breast  and  stood  erect,  with  an  expression  of  de 
cision  which  no  one  could  misread. 

"  Oh !  "  sobbed  a  voice  from  the  gloom. 

Hampstead  felt  a  sudden  sense  of  shock,  and  his  knees 
swayed  under  him  sickeningly.  That  was  death  there 
upon  the  pillow;  and  that  was  death  with  its  bony  hooks 
about  his  palm.  Sister  Showalter  had  gone  out  with  the 
undertow  that  pulled  at  her  while  he  was  praying. 

John  lifted  his  hand  helplessly. 

"  It  —  it  doesn't  let  go,"  he  whispered. 

The  doctor  glanced  at  the  embarrassed  Hampstead 
searchingly,  then  reached  over  and  straightened  the  aged 
fingers. 

"  Young  man,"  said  the  physician  earnestly  and  even 
reverently.  "  She  clung  to  you  as  she  went  down  into  the 
waters.  For  a  time  I  felt  your  young  strength  actually 
holding  her  back,  and  then  your  words  seemed  to  make 
her  strong  enough  to  push  off  boldly  of  her  own  accord. 
It  is  a  great  thing,  my  friend,"  and  the  doctor  seemed 
deeply  affected,  "  to  have  strength  enough  and  sympathy 
and  faith  enough  to  rob  death  of  its  terror  for  a  feeble 
soul  like  that  —  a  very  great  thing !  " 

The  earnestness  of  the  doctor  brought  a  lump  into 
John's  throat. 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  he  murmured,  but  immediately  was 
lost  in  looking  curiously  at  the  thing  upon  the  pillows. 

"  You  have  another  duty,"  said  the  physician,  nodding 
toward  the  shadows  at  the  back,  where  a  single  heart 
broken  wail  had  been  followed  by  a  convulsive  sobbing. 

John  went  and  stood  beside  the  Gloom  Woman. 
"  Mother  is  go  —  h-h-gone !  "  she  sobbed. 


206  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  Yes/'  said  Hampstead  simply. 

And  somehow  he  didn't  feel  embarrassed  at  all  now  by 
the  presence  of  death.  He  did  not  hesitate  as  to  what  to 
do.  He  just  put  out  his  hand  and  laid  it  in  a  brotherly 
way  on  the  woman's  shoulder,  noticing  as  he  did  so  that 
it  was  a  frail,  bony  shoulder,  and  that  it  trembled  as  much 
from  weakness  as  with  emotion. 

"  Let  the  tears  flow,  sister,"  he  suggested,  "  it  is  good 
for  you." 

And  the  tears  did  flow,  like  rivers,  and  all  the  while 
John's  speech  was  flowing  in  much  the  same  way,  and 
with  tears  in  it,  until  presently  the  woman  looked  up  at 
him,  surprised  both  at  the  manner  and  the  matter  of  his 
speech.  Was  it  he  who  had  spoken, —  this  man  who  said 
he  was  only  a  book  agent  ? 

John  too  was  surprised  at  his  words,  at  their  tone,  at 
the  superior  faith  and  wisdom  which  they  expressed.  He 
really  did  not  know  he  was  going  to  say  them.  When 
spoken,  it  did  not  seem  as  if  it  could  have  been  he  that 
had  uttered  them,  and  he  had  again  that  awesome  sense  of 
a  power  within  him  not  himself. 

"  You  are  a  minister  of  God !  "  declared  the  Gloom 
Woman  with  sudden  conviction. 

Hampstead  trembled.  This  was  what  the  dead  had 
whispered  to  him.  It  frightened  him  then,  it  frightened 
him  now.  He  was  not  a  minister  of  God.  He  was  a 
man  misplaced.  He  wanted  to  get  out  and  fly.  Yet  be 
fore  he  could  check  her,  the  Gloom  Woman  had  raised  his 
hand  and  kissed  it. 

This  made  him  want  to  fly  more  than  ever ;  but  he  man 
aged  first  to  ask :  "  Is  there  anything  more  that  I  can 
do?" 

There  was,  it  seemed,  and  he  did  it ;  and  then,  getting 
into  the  outside  as  expeditiously  as  possible,  he  filled  his 
lungs  with  long,  refreshing  drafts  of  the  sun-filtered  ozone 


HIS  NEXT  ADVENTURE  207 

and  found  his  footsteps  leading  him,  as  if  by  a  kind  of  in 
stinct  of  their  own,  down  one  of  the  short  side  streets  to 
where  the  waters  of  the  Bay  lapped  soothingly  against  the 
sea-wall. 

But  the  Bay  zephyrs  could  not  wash  that  series  of  vivid 
experiences,  half -ghastly  and  half-inspiring,  out  of  mind. 

He  had  blundered,  all  unprepared,  into  the  presence 
of  death.  His  sense  of  the  fitness  of  things  revolted. 
He  was  unworthy  —  unable  —  unclean.  He  —  a  book 
agent!  a  rate  clerk!  an  actor!  who  had  held  Marien 
Dounay  in  his  arms  and  felt  his  body  thrill  at  the  beat 
ing  of  her  heart ! 

Yet  this  old  woman  had  called  him  a  minister  of  God! 
This  Gloom  Woman  too  had  called  him  the  same.  Min 
ister!  Minister!  What  was  it?  Minister  meant  to 
serve.  A  servant  of  God !  But  he  had  not  served  God ! 
At  least  not  consciously.  He  had  only  served  humanity 
a  little.  He  had  served  the  old  woman  as  a  prop  to  her 
fears,  like  an  anchor  to  her  soul  when  she  drifted  out  into 
the  deeper  running  tide  that  ebbs  but  never  floods.  He 
had  served  the  Gloom  Woman  when  he  stood  beside  her 
while  she  opened  the  tear-gates  of  her  grief. 

It  was  very  little !  Yet  that  much  he  had  really  served. 
To  reflect  upon  it  now  gave  him  a  sense  of  elation  greater 
than  when  he  had  beaten  Scofield  and  his  tariff  depart 
ment;  greater  than  when  he  had  quelled  the  mob  at  the 
People's;  greater  than  when  he  had  crushed  Marien  in 
his  arms  like  a  flower ;  greater  even  than  when  Bessie  had 
looked  her  love  into  his  eyes. 

He  began  to  perceive  that  his  life  was  surely  mounting 
from  one  plane  to  another  and  reflected  that  he  had 
reached  the  highest  plane  of  all  to-day  when  the  Angel  of 
the  Chair  had  pinned  upon  his  coat  the  badge  of  Holy 
Orders ;  when  this  other  saint,  sinking  into  the  dark  tide, 
had  hailed  him  a  minister  of  God !  Highest  of  all,  when 


208  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

this  Gloom  Woman,  out  of  her  soul's  Gethsemane,  had 
wrung  his  hand  and  kissed  it  so  purely  and  also  hailed  him 
as  Minister  of  God! 

For  some  weeks  the  little  chapel  in  Encina,  its  troubles 
and  its  troubled  members,  continued  to  exercise  a  strange 
fascination  over  John.  Each  Sunday  he  shepherded  the 
Sunday  school  and  talked  a  blundering  quarter  of  an  hour 
to  the  older  folk  who  gathered;  while  between  Sundays 
he  devoted  an  astonishing  portion  of  his  time  to  visiting 
these  wrangling  Christians  in  their  homes,  for  the  am 
bition  to  heal  this  disgraceful  quarrel  had  taken  hold  on 
him  like  some  knightly  passion. 

And  in  the  midst  of  all  these  busy  comings  and  goings, 
odd,  half-humorous  reflections  upon  his  own  status  used 
to  break  in  upon  John's  mind.  Not  a  self-respecting 
church  in  the  communion,  he  knew,  but  would  have  eyed 
him  askance  because  he  had  been  an  actor.  Only  this  lit 
tle  helpless  church,  whose  condition  was  so  miserable  it 
could  not  reject  any  real  help,  accepted  him;  and  that 
merely  in  a  relation  that  was  entirely  unofficial  and  unde 
fined.  Still  a  sense  of  his  fitness  for  this  particular  task 
grew  upon  him  continually ;  and  it  was  really  astonishing 
how  every  experience  through  which  he  had  passed  had 
equipped  him  for  his  peacemaker  task:  most  of  all  those 
pangs  endured  because  of  his  break  with  Bessie,  which, 
although  eating  into  his  heart  like  an  acid,  yielded  a  kind 
of  ascetic  joy  in  the  pain  as  if  some  sort  of  character 
bleaching  and  expiation  were  at  work  within  him. 

In  the  meantime,  an  arbitration  committee  consisting  of 
the  District  Evangelist,  Brother  Harding,  and  Professor 
Hamilton,  the  Dean  of  the  Seminary,  was  at  work  upon 
the  affairs  of  the  little  church.  Both  wings  consented  to 
this,  but  with  misgivings,  since  the  one  man  they  were 
really  coming  to  trust  was  Hampstead  himself;  and  when 


HIS  NEXT  ADVENTURE  209 

the  night  for  the  report  of  the  arbitration  committee  ar 
rived,  each  faction  turned  out  in  full  strength,  with  sus 
picions  freshly  roused,  and  all  a-buzz  with  angry  con 
versation  as  if  the  church  were  a  nest  of  wasps. 

"  Things  are  pretty  hot,"  remarked  the  Dean  under 
his  breath,  coming  up  to  read  the  report. 

"  They  are  awful,"  groaned  the  District  Evangelist. 

John  presided,  standing  carefully  on  his  neutral  patch 
in  the  carpet,  and  was  dismayed  and  sickened  by  this  new 
and  terrible  display  of  feeling.  He  had  come  to  know  a 
very  great  deal  about  these  people  in  the  last  few  weeks ; 
he  had  seen  how  some  of  these  men  struggled  to  make  a 
living;  how  some  of  these  women  bore  awful  crosses  in 
their  hearts;  how  sickness  was  in  some  houses,  cold  de 
spair  in  others;  how  much  each  needed  the  strength,  the 
joy,  the  consolation  of  religion,  and  how  large  a  mission 
there  was  for  this  church  and  for  its  minister. 

But  the  Dean  was  reading  his  report  now,  in  a  high, 
lecture-room  voice.  It  was  very  brief. 

"  As  for  the  matters  at  issue,"  it  confessed,  "  your  com 
mittee  finds  it  humanly  impossible  to  place  the  responsi 
bility  for  this  regretful  division.  It  believes  the  only  fu 
ture  for  the  congregation  is  in  a  wise,  constructive,  for 
ward-moving  leadership  which  can  forget  the  past  en 
tirely. 

"  It  finds  that  such  a  leadership  now  exists  in  one  thor 
oughly  familiar  with  the  difficulties  of  the  situation  and 
enjoying  the  confidence  of  both  factions;  and  it  recom 
mends  that  this  congregation  make  sure  the  future  by  call 
ing  to  its  pastorate  the  one  man  whom  the  committee  be 
lieves  supremely  fitted  for  the  task,  our  wise  and  faithful 
brother,  John  Hampstead." 

The  congregation  had  not  thought  of  Hampstead  as  a 
minister.  He  had  not  permitted  them  to  do  so.  To  them 
this  recommendation  was  a  surprise. 


210  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

But  to  John  it  was  a  shock !  His  face  turned  a  faded 
yellow.  His  eyes  wandered  in  a  hunted  way  from  the 
face  of  the  Dean  to  that  of  the  Evangelist,  and  then 
slowly  they  swept  the  congregation  to  meet  everywhere 
looks  of  approval  at  the  Dean's  words. 

"  But,"  he  protested  breathlessly,  like  a  man  fighting 
for  air,  "  I  am  not  a  minister.  I  am  a  book  agent.  I 
have  been  an  actor.  I  am  unfit  to  stand  before  the  table 
of  the  Lord,  to  hold  the  hand  of  the  dying,  to  speak  con 
solation  to  the  living  beside  the  open  grave!  I  am  unfit 
—  unfit  —  for  any  holy  office !  " 

But  his  desperate  protestation  sounded  unconvincing 
even  to  himself.  He  had  been  doing  some  of  these 
things  already  and  with  a  measure  at  least  of  acceptation. 
All  at  once  it  seemed  as  if  there  was  no  resisting,  as  if  a 
trap  had  been  laid  for  him  and  for  his  liberties;  and  he 
struck  out  more  vehemently : 

"  Think  what  it  means,  you  young  men !  I  ask  you 
especially  — "  and  John  held  out  his  hands  towards  them, 
scattered  through  the  audience  — "  What  it  means  to 
abandon  life  and  the  world  by  donning  the  uniform  of  the 
professional  clergyman!  Wherever  you  go,  in  a  train, 
in  a  restaurant,  upon  a  street,  you  are  no  longer  free,  but  a 
slave  —  to  forms  and  to  conventions.  You  must  live  up, 
not  to  your  ideal  of  what  a  minister  is,  but  to  the  popular 
ideal  of  how  a  minister  should  appear.  It  is  a  vow  to 
hypocrisy ! 

"  It  is  a  vow  also  to  loneliness.  The  minister  is  cut  of! 
from  the  life  of  other  men.  No  man  thereafter  feels 
quite  at  ease  in  his  presence,  but  puts  on  something  or  puts 
off  something,  and  the  minister  never  sees  or  feels  the  real 
man  except  by  accident. 

"  For  a  few  weeks,"  and  John  lowered  his  voice  to  a 
more  tempered  note,  "  I  have  been  happy  to  do  some  serv 
ice  among  you ;  but  I  was  free !  As  I  walked  down  the 


HIS  NEXT  ADVENTURE  211 

street  I  wore  the  uniform  of  business.  No  man  could 
say :  '  There  goes  a  priest ;  watch  him ! ' 

11  Listen !  "  In  the  silence  John  himself  appeared  to  be 
listening  to  some  debate  that  went  on  within  himself,  and 
when  he  began  to  speak  once  more  it  was  with  the  chas 
tened  utterance  of  one  who  takes  his  hearers  into  a  sacred 
confidence. 

"  I  have  had  ambitions,  brethren,  and  I  have  given  them 
up.  I  have  had  a  great  love  and  all  but  lost  it.  Failures 
have  humbled  me.  Disappointment  and  surrenders  have 
taught  me  some  of  the  true  values  of  life.  I  have  tried  to 
gain  things  for  myself  and  lost  them.  When  I  think  of 
seeking  anything  for  myself  again,  after  my  experiences, 
I  feel  very  weak  and  can  command  no  resolution;  but 
when  I  think  of  seeking  happiness  for  others,  for  little 
children  in  particular,  for  wives  and  mothers,  for  all 
women,  in  fact,  with  their  capacity  to  love  and  trust ;  for 
striving,  up-climbing  men  —  yes,  and  the  weak  ones  too, 
for  I  have  learned  that  the  flesh  is  very  weak  —  when  I 
think  of  seeking  the  good  of  humanity  at  large,  I  feel  im 
mensely  strong  and  immensely  determined.  For  that  I 
am  ready  to  bury  my  life  in  the  soil  of  sacrifice,  but  not 
professionally ! 

"  I  hate  sham.  I  hate  professionalism.  I  am  done 
with  part-playing.  I  will  not  do  it.  I  cannot  be  your 
minister!  " 

John's  last  words  rang  out  sharply,  and  the  audience, 
seeing  that  the  heart  of  a  man  with  an  experience  had  been 
shown  to  them,  sat  breathless  and  still  expectant. 

In  the  silence,  the  voice  of  the  District  Evangelist  was 
presently  audible. 

"  Brother  Hampstead,"  he  was  saying  quietly,  "  is  a 
man  I  don't  exactly  understand,  but  I  think  in  his  very 
words  of  protest  he  has  given  us  the  reasons  why  he 
should  be  a  minister,  and  he  has  revealed  to  us  why  he  has 


212  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

gained  your  confidence.     Because  of  his  humility  and  his 
sincerity,  I  feel  that  I  can  trust  him.     You  feel  that  you 


can." 


"  But,"  protested  John,  with  a  gesture  of  desperation, 
"  I  am  not  educated  for  the  ministry." 

''  You  have  something  more  needed  here  than  educa 
tion,"  interjected  the  Dean  of  the  Seminary,  still  in  his 
lecture-room  voice.  "  Besides,  the  seminary  is  but  ten 
miles  away,  by  street  car.  You  may  complete  the  full 
three  years'  course  at  the  same  time  you  are  making  this 
little  church  into  a  big  one !  " 

Something  in  John's  breast  leaped  at  the  prospect  of  a 
college  course,  and  the  idea  of  making  a  little  church  into 
a  big  one  appealed  to  his  inborn  passion  for  definite 
achievement;  yet  with  it  all  came  once  more  the  feeling 
that  he  was  being  hopelessly  and  helplessly  entangled. 

"  But,"  he  struggled,  looking  with  moist,  appealing- 
eyes,  first  at  Hamilton  and  then  at  Harding,  "  I  have  not 
been  ordained,  and  I  have  no  call !  " 

"  No  call  ? "  queried  Dean  Hamilton,  laughing  nerv 
ously,  as  was  his  way  of  modifying  the  intensity  of  the 
situation.  "  Your  capacity  to  do  is  your  call." 

"  Being  honest  with  yourself,  do  you  not  believe  that 
you  can  save  this  church?  "  argued  Brother  Harding. 

John  felt  that  he  could,  but  his  soul  still  strained  within 
him,  and  his  eyes  roved  over  the  audience,  the  corners  of 
the  room  and  the  very  beams  in  the  ceiling,  as  if  seeking  a 
way  of  escape. 

Suddenly  a  man  stood  up  in  the  back  of  the  church. 

"  Will  he  take  a  side?  "  this  man  demanded  excitedly, 
with  hoarse  impatience.  "  What  side  is  he  on  ?  " 

The  very  crassness  of  this  partisan  creature,  so  seething 
with  personal  feeling  that  he  understood  nothing  of  the 
young  man's  agony  of  soul,  lashed  the  tender  sensibilities 
of  Hampstead  like  a  scourge,  so  that  all  his  nature  rose  in 


HIS  NEXT  ADVENTURE  213 

protest.  From  a  figure  of  cowering  doubt,  he  suddenly 
stood  forth  bold  and  challenging. 

"  No !  "  he  thundered.  "  I  will  not  take  a  side !  The 
curse  of  God  is  upon  sides,  and  every  man  and  every 
woman  who  takes  a  side  in  His  church !  I  will  take  the 
Lord's  side.  I  challenge  every  one  of  you  who  is  willing 
to  leave  his  or  her  petty  personal  feeling  in  this  contro 
versy,  for  to-night  and  forever,  to  come  out  here  and  stand 
beside  me.  I  place  my  life  career  upon  the  issue.  I  will 
let  your  coming  be  my  call.  If  you  call  me,  I  will  answer. 
If  you  do  not,  God  has  set  me  free  from  any  responsi 
bility  to  you." 

The  questioning  partisan  sank  down  abashed  before 
such  prophetic  fervor.  John  stood  waiting.  No  eye 
looked  at  any  other  eye  but  his.  The  silence  was  electric 
and  pregnant,  but  brief,  broken  almost  immediately  by  a 
low,  rumbling  sound  and  the  rattle  of  wheels  against 
chairs.  The  Angel  of  the  Chair,  propelling  her  vehicle 
herself,  was  coming  to  take  her  place  beside  John. 

She  had  barely  reached  the  front  when  the  tall  form  of 
Elder  Burbeck  was  seen  to  advance  stiffly  and  offer  his 
hand  to  Hampstead. 

The  venerable  Elder  Lukenbill,  goat-whiskered  and 
doddering,  leader  of  the  Aleshire  faction,  hesitated  only 
long  enough  to  gloat  a  little  at  this  spectacle  of  his  rival, 
Burbeck,  eating  humble  pie,  and  then,  prodded  from  be 
hind,  arose  and  careened  on  weak  knees  down  the  aisle. 

Others  began  to  follow,  till  presently  it  seemed  that  the 
whole  church  was  moving ;  everybody  stood  up,  everybody 
slipped  forward,  or  tried  to.  Failing  that,  they  spoke,  or 
laughed,  or  sobbed,  or  shook  hands  with  themselves  or 
some  one  near;  then  craned  on  tiptoe  to  see  what  was 
happening  down  where  half  the  church  was  massed  about 
the  two  elders,  about  the  Dean  and  the  Evangelist  and 
John. 


214  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

Abruptly  the  tall  forms  of  these  men  sank  from  view; 
then  the  front  ranks  of  people,  crowding  around,  also  be 
gan  to  sink,  almost  as  ripe  grain  bows  before  a  breeze,  un 
til  even  the  people  at  the  back  could  see  that  Brother 
Hampstead  was  kneeling,  with  the  yellow  crest  of  his  hair 
falling  in  abandon  about  his  face. 

The  long,  skeleton  hand  of  Elder  Lukenbill  was 
sprawled  over  John's  bowed  head,  overlapped  aggres 
sively  by  the  stout,  red  fingers  of  Elder  Burbeck,  while  the 
dapper  digits  of  the  Dean  of  the  Seminary  capped  and 
clasped  the  two  hands  and  tangled  nervously  in  the  tawny 
locks  themselves. 

"  With  this  laying  on  of  hands,"  the  Dean  was  saying, 
still  in  that  high  lecture-room  cackle,  although  his  tone 
was  deeply  impressive,  "  I  ordain  thee  to  the  ministry  of 
Jesus  Christ!" 

When,  succeeding  this,  the  voice  of  the  District  Evan 
gelist  had  been  heard  in  prayer,  there  followed  an  impres 
sive  waiting  silence,  in  which  no  one  seemed  to  know 
quite  what  to  do,  except  to  gaze  fixedly  at  the  face  of  John 
Hampstead,  which  continued  as  bloodless  and  as  motion 
less  as  chiseled  marble ;  until,  bowed  in  her  chair,  as  if  she 
brooded  like  a  real  angel  over  the  kneeling  congregation, 
the  rich  contralto  voice  of  Mrs.  Burbeck  began  to  sing: 

"  Take  my  life  and  let  it  be 
Consecrated,  Lord,  to  Thee, 
Take  my  hands  and  let  them  move 
At  the  impulse  of  Thy  love." 

Presently  her  voice  changed  to  "  Nearer  My  God  to 
Thee  ",  while  other  voices  joined  until  the  whole  church 
was  rilled  with  the  sound,  and  when  the  last  note  had  died, 
the  very  air  of  the  little  chapel  seemed  tear- washed  and 
clear. 

In  this  atmosphere  John  Hampstead  arose,  and  when 


HIS  NEXT  ADVENTURE  215 

one  hand  swept  back  the  yellow  mass  of  hair,  a  kind  of 
glory  appeared  upon  his  brow.  Once  an  actor,  once  a 
man  of  ambition,  he  was  now  consecrated  to  the  service  of 
humanity. 

But  he  had  not  surrendered  his  love  for  Bessie  Mitchell, 
and  Marien  Dounay  was  still  in  the  world,  mounting 
higher  and  higher  toward  the  goal  she  had  imperiously 
set  for  herself. 


CHAPTER  XX 

A    WOMAN    WITH    A    WANT 

FIVE  years  walked  along,  and  great  events  took  place. 
The  earthquake  seized  the  San  Francisco  Bay  district  and 
shook  it  as  a  dog  shakes  a  rat.  Fire  swept  the  great  city 
on  the  peninsula  almost  out  of  existence ;  it  made  rich 
men  poor,  and  hard  hearts  soft —  for  a  few  days  at  least 
—  and  by  shifting  populations  and  business  centers,  af 
fected  the  east  side  of  the  Bay  almost  as  much  as  the  west, 
so  that  in  all  that  water-circling  population  there  was  no 
business  and  no  society,  no  man  or  woman  or  child  even, 
that  was  thereafter  quite  as  it  or  he  or  she  had  been. 

In  this  seething  ferment  of  change  nothing  altered  more 
than  the  circumstances  of  John  Hampstead.  He  had 
buried  himself  and  found  himself.  He  had  sought  relief 
in  a  self -abandoning  plunge  into  obscurity,  yet  never  had 
a  minister  so  humble  gained  such  burning  prominence. 
The  town  hung  on  him.  Men  who  never  went  to  church 
at  all  leaned  upon  him  and  upon  the  things  they  read  about 
him  from  day  to  day. 

He  had  gone  upon  a  thousand  missions  of  mercy;  he 
had  fought  for  his  lambs  like  a  lion;  he  had  faced 
calumny;  he  had  dared  personal  assault.  He  had  tri 
umphed  in  all  his  conflicts  and  stood  out  before  this 
sprawling,  half  metropolitan,  half -suburban  community  of 
half  a  million  people  as  a  man  whom  it  trusted  —  too 
much  almost. 

Under  his  ministry  in  these  five  years,  the  wretched  lit 
tle  chapel  had  grown  into  the  great  All  People's  Church. 


A  WOMAN  WITH  A  WANT  217 

To  attend  All  People's  was  a  fad;  to  belong  to  it  almost 
a  fashion.  The  newspapers  daily  made  its  pastor  into  a 
hero,  and  the  moral  element  in  the  population  looked  upon 
him  as  its  most  fearless  champion  and  aggressive  leader. 

But  into  this  situation  and  into  All  People's  one  morn 
ing  a  woman  came  walking,  with  power  to  shake  it  more 
violently  than  an  earthquake  could  have  done. 

The  choir  was  just  disposing  of  the  anthem.  The 
Reverend  John  Hampstead  sat,  but  not  at  ease,  in  his  high 
pulpit  chair,  which,  somehow,  this  morning  reminded  him 
of  the  throne  chair  of  Denmark  upon  its  stage  in  that  barn 
of  a  theater  which  at  this  very  instant  was  only  five  years 
—  and  five  miles  —  distant ;  the  chair  from  which  he 
used  to  arise  suddenly  to  receive  the  rapier  thrust  of  his 
nephew,  Hamlet.  This  morning  a  vague  uneasiness  filled 
him,  as  if  he  were  about  to  receive  a  real  rapier  thrust. 

The  minister's  sermon  outline  was  in  his  hand,  but  his 
eye  roamed  the  congregation.  It  took  note  of  who  was 
there  and  who  was  absent;  it  took  note  of  who  came  in; 
but  suddenly  the  eye  ceased  to  rove  and  started  forward  in 
its  socket. 

Deacon  Morris  was  escorting  a  lady  down  the  right- 
center  aisle.  To  distinction  of  dress  and  bearing  the 
newcomer  added  a  striking  type  of  beauty.  Her  figure 
was  tall,  combining  rounded  curves  and  willowy  grace. 
In  the  regularity  of  its  smooth  chiseling,  her  profile  was 
purely  Greek.  The  eyes  were  dark  and  lustrous,  the 
cheeks  had  a  soft  bloom  upon  them,  the  lips  were  ripely 
red ;  and  if  art  had  helped  to  achieve  these  contrasts  with  a 
skin  that  was  satiny  smooth  and  of  ivory  creaminess,  it 
»was  an  art  contributory  and  not  an  art  subversive. 

"More  beautiful  than  ever!"  murmured  the  minister 
with  the  emphasis  of  deep  conviction. 

The  lady  accepted  a  sitting  well  to  the  front.  Her  head 
was  reverently  bowed  for  an  interval  and  then  raised, 


218  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

while  the  black  eyes  darted  one  illuminative  glance  of 
recognition  at  the  man  in  the  pulpit,  a  glance  that  made 
the  minister  start  again  and  confess  to  himself  an  error 
by  admitting  beneath  his  breath :  "  No,  not  more  beau 
tiful  —  more  powerful !  " 

Lengthened  scrutiny  confirmed  this  judgment.  Soft 
contours  had  yielded,  though  ever  so  slightly,  to  lines  of 
strength.  There  was  greater  majesty  in  her  bearing. 
She  was  less  appealing,  but  more  commanding.  John  re 
flected  that  it  was  rather  impossible  it  should  be  other 
wise.  The  man  or  the  woman  who  fights  and  conquers 
always  sacrifices  lines  of  beauty  to  those  muscle  clamps  of 
strength  which  seem  to  sleep  but  ill-concealed  upon  the 
face. 

And  Marien  Dounay  had  conquered !  In  five  years  she 
had  mounted  to  the  top.  With  the  memory  of  her  latest 
Broadway  triumphs  still  ringing,  this  very  day  her  name 
would  be  mentioned  in  every  dramatic  column  in  every 
Sunday  paper  in  America.  To  have  uttered  that  name 
aloud  in  this  congregation  would  have  caused  every  neck 
to  crane. 

Alone  conscious  of  her  presence,  John  found  himself 
counting  the  cost  of  her  success.  Part  of  that  cost  he 
could  see  tabulated  on  her  face.  Another  part  of  it  was 
the  grisly  and  horrible  intimation  to  the  loathsome  Litschi, 
which  he  had  overheard  on  the  unforgetable  night  in  the 
restaurant.  He  found  himself  assuming  that  she  had 
paid  this  latter  price  and  experienced  a  feeling  of  revulsion 
at  recalling  how  once  this  woman's  mere  presence,  the 
glance  of  an  eye,  the  touch  of  a  hand,  the  purring  tones  of 
her  voice,  had  been  sufficient  to  melt  him  with  unutterable 
emotions.  This  morning,  gazing  at  her  through  that  pe 
culiar  mist  of  apprehension,  almost  of  fear,  that  had  been 
clouding  his  mind  since  before  her  entry,  John  knew  that 
she  was  a  more  dangerous  woman  now  than  then ;  and  yet 


A  WOMAN  WITH  A  WANT  219 

the  same  glance  showed  that  she  was  not  dangerous  to 
him,  for  the  dark  eyes  looked  at  him  hungrily,  with  some 
thing  strangely  like  adoration  in  them,  and  there  was  an 
expression  of  longing  upon  the  beautiful  face. 

When  he  stood  up  to  preach,  she  followed  his  every 
movement  and  appeared  to  drink  down  his  utterance 
thirstily.  Skilled  now  in  spiritual  diagnosis,  the  minister 
of  All  People's  read  her  swiftly.  She  had  gained  —  but 
she  had  not  gained  all.  Something  was  still  desired,  and, 
he  could  not  help  but  believe,  desired  of  him.  Having 
coldly  driven  him  from  her  with  a  terrible  kind  of  vio 
lence,  she  had  come  back  humbly,  almost  beseechingly. 

So  marked  was  this  suggestion  of  intense  longing  that 
the  feeling  of  horror  and  revulsion  which  had  come  to 
Hampstead  with  the  entry  of  the  actress  gave  way  en 
tirely  to  an  emotion  of  pity  and  a  desire  to  help,  and  he 
tried  earnestly  to  make  his  sermon  in  some  degree  a  mes 
sage  to  the  woman's  heart. 

The  position  of  the  Reverend  John  Hampstead  in  All 
People's  Church  and  in  the  community  round  about  was 
due  to  no  miracle,  but  had  grown  naturally  enough  out  of 
the  strong  heart  of  the  man  and  his  experiences. 

When,  for  instance,  in  the  early  days  at  the  chapel, 
John  missed  the  Pedersen  children  from  the  Sunday 
school,  and  found  their  mother  in  tears  at  home  because 
the  children  had  no  shoes,  and  that  they  had  no  shoes  be 
cause  Olaf  gambled  away  his  weekly  wage  in  "  Beaney  " 
Webster's  pool  room  where  race-track  bets  were  made,  and 
poker  and  other  gambling  games  were  played,  all  in  de 
fiance  of  law, —  and  when  he  found  the  police  supine  and 
prosecutors  indifferent, —  the  practical  minded  young  di 
vine  sent  Deacon  Mullin  —  who,  to  his  frequent  discom.- 
fiture  resembled  a  "  tin  can  "  sport  more  than  a  church 
official  —  into  Beaney's  to  bet  upon  a  horse.  When  the 


220  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

Deacon's  horse  won,  and  Beaney  all  unsuspecting  paid  the 
winnings  over  in  a  sealed  envelope,  the  next  Sunday  night 
John  took  the  envelope  into  the  pulpit  and  shook  it  till  it 
jingled  as  he  told  the  story  which  next  morning  the  news 
papers  printed  widely,  while  the  minister  himself  was 
swearing  out  a  warrant  for  the  arrest  of  Beaney. 

That  was  the  beginning,  but  to  John's  surprise  it  was 
not  the  end.  Beaney  did  not  plead  guilty  meekly.  He 
fought  and  desperately,  for  this  meddlesome  amateur 
clergyman  had  lifted  the  cover  on  a  sneaking  underground 
system  of  petty  gambling,  of  illicit  liquor  selling,  and  of 
graver  violations  of  the  moral  laws,  which  ramified 
widely.  Attacked  in  one  part,  all  its  members  rallied  to  a 
defence  of  the  whole  that  was  impudent,  determined  and 
astonishingly  powerful. 

Hampstead  was  unknown,  his  church  small  and 
wretched  and  despised.  His  sole  weapon  was  the  news 
papers  who  would  not  endorse  him,  but  who  would  print 
what  he  said  and  what  he  did.  What  he  said  was  not  so 
much,  but  what  John  Hampstead  did  was  presently  con 
siderable,  for  a  few  public-spirited  citizens  put  money  in 
his  hand  for  detectives  and  special  prosecutors,  and  he 
spent  more  hours  that  year  in  police  courts  than  he  did  in 
his  church. 

In  the  end  he  won.  The  lawless  element,  sore  and 
chastened,  acknowledged  their  defeat,  while  the  forces  of 
good  and  evil  alike  recognized  thus  early  the  entry  into 
the  community  of  a  man  whose  character  and  personality 
were  henceforth  to  be  reckoned  with. 

But  while  these  battlings  earned  John  publicity  and  high 
regard,  they  also  won  him  hate  and  trouble.  The  work 
cost  him  tremendous  expenditure  of  energy  and  sleepless 
nights.  It  made  enemies  of  men  whose  friendship  he  de 
sired.  It  brought  him  threats  innumerable.  A  stick  of 
dynamite  was  found  beneath  his  study  window.  Yet 


A  WOMAN  WITH  A  WANT  221 

John's  devotion  made  him  careless  of  personal  danger. 
He  trembled  for  Rose  and  Dick  and  Tayna ;  he  trembled 
for  the  man  who  had  crept  through  the  shadow  of  the 
palms  to  plant  that  stick  and  time  that  fuse,  which  merci 
fully  went  out ;  but  somehow  he  did  not  tremble  for  him 
self. 

Besides,  out  of  the  shadow  of  danger,  there  seemed  to 
reach  sometimes  the  flexing  muscles  of  an  omnipotent 
arm.  As,  for  instance,  when  an  arrested  gambler,  out 
upon  bail,  came  into  his  study  one  night  with  intent  to  kill. 
At  first  the  minister  was  talking  on  the  telephone,  and 
some  chivalric  instinct  restrained  the  would-be  assassin 
from  shooting  his  nemesis  in  the  back. 

Next  John  laughed  at  the  preposterous  idea  of  being 
killed,  failing  to  understand  that  the  threat  was  earnest 
or  to  perceive  how  much  his  caller  was  fired  by  liquor. 
Such  merriment  was  unseemly  to  the  man  on  murder  bent ; 
he  found  himself  unable  to  shoot  a  bullet  into  the  open 
mouth  of  laughter,  and  fumbled  helplessly  with  his  hand 
behind  him  and  his  tongue  shamefacedly  tied  until  the 
minister  directed  his  mind  aside  with  a  question  about  his 
baby,  following  quickly  with  sympathetic  talk  about  the 
man's  wife  and  mother,  until  the  spirit  of  vengeance  went 
out  of  him,  and  he  broke  down  and  cried  and  went  away 
meekly  with  a  parting  handshake  from  his  intended  vic 
tim. 

It  was  only  after  the  man  had  gone  that  John  felt 
strangely  weak  with  fright  and  bewildered  by  an  odd  sense 
of  deliverance. 

Yet  all  these  battles  were  only  a  part  of  John's  activi 
ties  ;  nor  did  they  grow  out  of  a  fighting  spirit,  but  out  of 
a  sympathetic  nature,  out  of  his  passion  for  the  hurt  and 
helpless,  and  his  brave  pity  for  the  defenceless. 

His  impulsive  boldness,  his  ready  tact,  and  his  disposi 
tion  to  follow  an  obligation  or  an  opportunity  through  to 


222  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

the  end,  no  matter  where  it  led,  had  made  him  father  con 
fessor  to  men  and  women  of  every  sort  and  the  unofficial 
priest  of  a  parish  that  extended  widely  on  the  surface  and 
in  the  underworld  of  the  life  about  him. 

Naturally,  All  People's  was  extremely  proud  of  its 
pastor,  of  his  broad  sympathies  and  his  devoted  activities. 
Impressionable  ladies  felt  that  there  was  something  ro 
mantic  in  seeing  him  stand  yonder  in  the  pulpit,  so  grave 
and  priestly;  in  seeing  him  come  down  at  the  end  of  the 
service,  so  approachable  to  all;  and  in  taking  his  hand, 
not  knowing  whether  some  archcriminal  had  not  wrung  it 
an  hour  before  he  entered  the  pulpit,  or  whether  last  night 
those  firm  fingers  might  not  have  smoothed  back  the  hair 
from  the  brow  of  some  dying  nameless  woman  in  a  place 
about  which  nice  people  could  scarcely  permit  themselves 
to  think. 

There  was  even  excitement  in  attending  the  church,  be 
cause  one  never  knew  who  would  be  sitting  next, —  some 
famous  personage  or  some  notorious  one, —  for  Doctor 
Hampstead  won  his  friends  and  admirers  from  the 
strangest  sources  imaginable. 

As  to  pulpit  eloquence,  there  was  admittedly  seldom  a 
flash  of  it  at  All  People's.  By  an  enormous  digestive 
feat,  John  had  assimilated  that  seminary  course  of  which 
the  Dean  had  spoken,  boasting  that  he  read  his  Greek 
Testament  entirely  through  in  the  three  years,  upon  the 
street  cars  that  plied  between  his  home  and  the  seat  of 
theological  learning.  But  this  did  not  make  of  Hamp 
stead  a  strong  preacher,  although  the  impression  that  he 
might  be,  if  he  chose,  was  unescapable.  His  passion,  he 
declared,  was  not  to  preach  the  gospel  but  to  do  the  gospel. 
People  sat  before  him  spellbound,  not  by  his  eloquence, 
but  by  a  sense  of  mysterious  spiritual  forces  at  work  about 
them.  At  times,  the  mere  exhalations  of  the  man's  sunny 
personality  seemed  sufficient  to  account  for  all  his  in- 


A  WOMAN  WITH  A  WANT  223 

fluence;  at  others  there  was  that  mysterious  feeling  of  the 
Presence. 

But  as  the  membership  grew  and  the  sphere  of  its 
pastor's  influence  extended,  there  began  to  be  less  and 
less  of  his  personality  left  for  expenditure  upon  that 
"  backbone  of  the  church  "  which  had  been  there  longest 
and  felt  it  first. 

More  than  once  Elder  Burbeck  took  occasion  to  voice  a 
protest  over  this.  John  put  these  protests  aside  mildly 
until  one  day,  when  the  minister's  nerves  had  been  more 
than  usually  frazzled  by  a  series  of  petty  annoyances, 
the  Elder  blunderingly  declared  that  the  church  paid  the 
minister  his  salary  and  was  entitled  to  have  his  services. 

"  Is  that  the  way  you  look  at  it?  "  a'sked  John  sharply. 
"  That  you  pay  me  my  salary  ?  Then  don't  ever  put  an 
other  coin  in  the  contribution  box.  I  thought  you  gave 
the  money  to  God,  and  God  gave  it  to  me.  I  do  not  ac 
knowledge  to  you  or  to  any  member  of  this  church  one 
single  obligation  except  to  be  true  in  your  or  their  soul's 
relation.  I  owe  you  neither  obedience  nor  coddling  nor 
back-smoothing." 

"But  you  don't  realize,"  urged  the  Elder.  "These 
things  were  well  enough  when  our  church  was  small. 
But  now  it  is  big.  It  occupies  a  dignified  position  in  the 
community,  and  all  this  riff-raff  that  you  are  running 
after—" 

"Riff-raff!"  John  exploded.  "Jesus  gathered  his 
disciples  from  the  riff-raff !  His  message  was  to  the  riff 
raff  !  He  said :  '  Leave  the  avenues  and  boulevards  and 
go  unto  the  riff-raff ! '  What  is  any  church  but  riff 
raff  redeemed?  What  is  any  sanctimonious,  self -satis 
fied  Pharisee  but  a  soul  on  the  way  to  make  riff-raff  of 
himself  again?  What  gave  this  church  its  dignified  po 
sition  in  the  community?  Did  you,  when  you  nailed  the 
plank  across  the  door?  " 


224  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

Elder  Burbeck  flushed  redder  than  ever  and  turned 
stiffly  on  his  heel,  not  only  inflamed  by  the  crushing  sar 
casm  of  this  rebuke,  but  stolidly  accepting  it  as  one  more 
evidence  that  in  his  heart  this  minister  of  All  People's 
was  much  more  human  and  much  less  godlike  than  many 
gaping  people  seemed  to  think.  Both  the  resentment  and 
the  inference  the  Elder  stored  up  carefully  against  a 
day  which  he  felt  that  he  could  see  advancing,  while  the 
minister,  too  intent  upon  his  work  to  scan  the  horizon 
for  a  cloud,  hurried  away  upon  another  of  his  errands  to 
the  riff-raff. 

With  this  fanatic  ardor  of  personal  service  now  highly 
developed,  it  was  inevitable  that  the  appeal  in  the  eyes  of 
Marien  Dounay  should  act  like  a  challenge  upon  the  chiv 
alrous  nature  of  John  Hampstead. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

A  CRY   OF   DISTRESS 

AT  the  close  of  the  service,  Doctor  Hampstead  moved 
freely  and  affectionately  among  his  people,  according  to 
his  habit.  To  the  Angel  of  the  Chair,  who  during  all 
these  five  years  had  been  his  spiritual  intimate  and  prac 
tical  counselor,  until  in  his  regard  she  stood  frankly  can 
onized,  went  the  last  hearty  handclasp,  after  which  the 
minister  hurried  to  where  the  actress  still  waited  in  her 
pew.  Save  for  a  dapple-whiskered  janitor  tactfully  busy 
in  the  far-off  loft  of  the  choir,  the  two  were  alone  in  the 
large  auditorium. 

"  Miss  Dounay,"  John  began  in  sincere  tones,  extend 
ing  his  hand  cordially,  "  I  congratulate  you  heartily  on 
the  splendid  success  that  you  have  won." 

He  felt  a  sense  of  real  triumph  in  his  heart,  that  after 
what  had  passed  between  them  he  was  able  to  greet  her 
like  this  in  all  sincerity,  although  she  had  helped  greatly 
by  receiving  him  with  that  odd  look  of  worship  fulness 
which  he  had  discerned  from  the  distance  of  the  pulpit. 

"  Thank  you,  but  please  do  not  congratulate  me,"  the 
actress  exclaimed  quickly,  while  a  look  of  pain  came  un 
disguised  into  her  eyes,  and  with  a  mere  shrug  of  those 
expressive  shoulders  she  hurled  aside  all  pretense  at  formal 
amenities.  "  Oh,  Doctor  Hampstead,"  she  began,  breath 
ing  his  name  in  tones  of  respect  that  deepened  into  rev 
erence,  and  frankly  confessing  herself  a  woman  in  acute 
distress  by  adding  impulsively : 

"  I  have  gained  everything  we  once  talked  about,  and 


226  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

yet  I  believe  I  am  the  unhappiest  woman  in  the  world." 

There  was  almost  a  sob  in  her  voice  as  she  uttered  the 
words,  and  the  minister  looked  at  her  intently,  with  his 
face  more  gravely  sympathetic  than  usual. 

"  I  am  trying  to  revive  something,"  she  hurried  on,  as 
if  there  was  relief  in  thus  hastily  declaring  herself,  "try 
ing  to  get  back  something.  You  alone  can  help  me. 
My  happiness,  my  very  life,  it  seems  to  me,  depends  upon 
you.  Will  you  come  to  see  me  this  afternoon  at  the 
Hotel  St.  Albans,  say  at  four?" 

"  I  should  like  to,"  responded  the  minister  frankly,  his 
desire  to  help  her  growing  rapidly ;  "  but  I  have  a  funeral 
this  afternoon." 

"  Then  to-night,"  the  actress  urged,  "  after  your  ser 
mon  is  done  ?  " 

As  if  anxious  to  forestall  refusal,  she  gave  him  no 
chance  to  reply,  but  continued  with  some  display  of  her 
old  vivacity  of  spirit:  "We  will  have  a  supper,  as  we 
did  that  night  you  came  in  after  the  play.  Julie  is  still 
with  me,  and  another  maid,  and  a  secretary,  and  some 
times  my  '  personal  representative.'  Oh,  I  have  quite  a 
retinue  now !  Do  say  you  will  come,  even  though  it  is  an 
unseemly  hour  for  a  ministerial  call,"  she  pleaded,  and 
again  her  eyes  were  eloquent. 

But  it  was  not  the  hour  that  made  John  hesitate.  He 
felt  himself  immune  from  charges  of  indiscretion.  He 
knew  that  despite  his  youthful  thirty  years,  he  seemed 
ages  older  than  the  oldest  of  his  congregation,  a  man 
removed  from  every  possibility  of  error;  one  whose  sim 
ple,  open  life  of  day-by-day  devotion  to  the  good  of  all 
who  sought  him  seemed  in  itself  a  sufficient  armor-proof 
against  mischance. 

He  came  and  went,  in  the  upper  and  in  the  underworld, 
almost  as  he  would;  saw  whom  he  would  and  where  he 
would.  Jails,  theaters,  hotels,  questionable  side  en- 


A  CRY  OF  DISTRESS  227 

trances,  boulevards  and  alleys  were  accustomed  to  the 
sight  of  his  comings  and  goings.  If  the  stalwart  figure 
of  the  man  loomed  at  midnight  in  a  dance  hall  on  the 
Barbary  Coast  of  San  Francisco  or  in  the  darkest  alleys 
of  an  Oakland  water-front  saloon,  his  presence  was  re 
marked,  but  his  purpose  was  never  doubted.  He  was 
there  for  the  good  of  some  one,  to  save  some  girl,  to  haul 
back  some  mother's  boy,  to  fight  side  by  side  with  some 
man  against  his  besetting  sin,  whether  it  be  wine  or 
woman,  or  the  gaming  table.  Therefore  he  could  go  to 
call  on  Marien  Dounay  at  ten  o'clock  at  night  at  the 
Hotel  St.  Albans  as  freely  as  on  a  brother  minister  at 
noon. 

What  had  made  him  suddenly  withhold  his  acceptance 
of  the  invitation  was  the  entry  of  something  of  the  old 
lightness  of  spirit  into  her  tones  for  a  moment,  accom 
panied  by  the  suggestion  of  a  supper.  He  knew  enough 
of  the  whimsical  obliquities  of  Marien  Dounay 's  nature 
to  appreciate  that  he  must  meet  her  socially  in  order  to 
minister  to  her  spiritually;  but  he  did  not  propose  that 
the  solemn  purposes  of  his  call  should  be  made  an  op 
portunity  for  entertainment  or  personal  display. 

However,  Marien  had  instantly  divined  her  mistake. 
"Doctor  Hampstead!"  she  began  afresh,  and  this  time 
her  voice  was  low  and  her  utterance  rapid.  "  My  season 
closed  in  New  York  last  Saturday  night.  I  was  com 
pelled  to  wait  over  three  days  to  sign  the  contract  for  my 
London  engagement.  The  moment  that  was  out  of  the 
way,  I  rushed  entirely  across  this  country  to  see  you !  I 
arrived  this  morning.  I  came  here  at  once.  Oh,  I  must 
talk  to  you  immediately  and  disabuse  your  mind  of  some 
thing  —  something  terrible  that  I  have  waited  five  years  to 
wipe  out." 

She  clasped  her  hands  nervously,  and  her  luminous 
eyes  grew  misty,  while  she  seemed  in  danger  of  losing 


228  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

her  composure  entirely,  an  unheard-of  thing  for  Marien 
Dounay. 

Her  imploring  looks  and  the  impetuous  earnestness  of 
her  appeal  were  already  leading  John  to  self-reproach 
for  the  sudden  hardening  of  his  judgment  upon  her;  but 
it  was  the  last  sentence  that  decided  him.  He  knew  well 
enough  what  she  meant,  and  something  in  him  deeper 
than  the  minister  leaped  at  it.  If  she  could  wipe  out 
that  grisly  memory,  the  earliest  opportunity  was  due  her, 
and  it  would  relieve  him  exactly  as  if  a  smirch  had  been 
wiped  from  the  brow  of  womanhood  itself.  Besides, 
there  had  always  been  to  him  something  puzzling  and 
incomprehensible  about  that  scene  in  the  restaurant, 
which,  as  the  years  went  by,  was  more  and  more  like  a 
horrible  dream  than  an  actual  experience. 

"  I  will  come,  Miss  Dounay,"  he  assured  her  gravely. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad!  "  the  woman  exclaimed  with  a  lit 
tle  outstretching  of  her  hand,  which  would  have  fallen 
upon  John's  on  the  back  of  the  pew,  if  it  had  not  been 
raised  at  the  moment  in  a  gesture  of  negation  as  he 
said: 

"  But  please  omit  the  supper.  I  am  coming  at  your 
call  —  eagerly  —  happily  —  but  not  even  as  an  old 
friend ;  solely  as  a  minister !  " 

This  speech  was  so  subtly  modulated  as  to  make  its 
meaning  clear,  without  the  shadow  of  offense,  and 
Marien's  humbly  grateful  manner  of  receiving  it  indi 
cated  tacit  acknowledgment  of  the  exact  nature  of  the 
visit. 

Nevertheless,  the  minister  found  that  in  thus  specify 
ing  he  had  written  for  himself  a  prescription  larger  than 
he  could  fill.  Between  the  whiles  of  his  busy  afternoon 
and  evening  he  was  conscious  of  growing  feelings  of 
curiosity  and  personal  interest  that  threatened  to  engulf 
the  loftier  object  of  his  intended  call.  Old  memories 


A  CRY  OF  DISTRESS  229 

would  revive  themselves ;  old  emotions  would  surge  again. 
The  spirit  of  adventure  and  the  spice  of  expectancy  thrust 
themselves  into  his  thought,  so  that  it  was  with  a  half- 
guilty  feeling  that  he  found  himself  at  the  hour  appointed 
in  the  hotel  corridor  outside  her  room.  He  was  minded 
to  go  back,  but  stood  still  instead,  reproaching  himself 
for  cowardice.  His  very  uncertainty  gave  him  a  feeling 
of  littleness. 

Eternal  Loyalty  was  still  and  forever  to  be  his  guiding 
principle;  and  should  he  not  be  as  true  to  this  actress 
who  had  appealed  to  him,  who  perhaps  was  to  tell  him 
something  that  would  prove  she  had  a  right  to  appeal  to 
him,  as  to  any  other  needy  one?  Should  he  shrink  be 
cause  of  the  irresistible  feeling  that  it  was  more  as  a 
man  interested  in  a  woman  than  as  a  priest  to  confess 
a  soul,  that  he  found  himself  before  her  door?  Should 
all  of  his  experience  go  for  nothing,  and  was  his  char 
acter,  strengthened  by  years  and  chastened  by  some  bitter 
lessons,  still  so  undependable  that  he  dared  not  put  him 
self  to  the  test  of  this  woman,  even  though  her  mysteri 
ous  power  was  so  great  that  she  could  command  a  man's 
love  and  deserve  his  hate,  yet  send  him  away  from  her 
without  a  hurt  and  feeling  admiration  mingled  with  his 
horror ! 

For  a  man  with  John  Hampstead's  chivalrous  nature 
to  put  a  question  like  this  to  himself  was  to  answer  it  in 
the  affirmative.  Temptation  comes  to  the  minister  as  to. 
other  men,  and  it  had  come  to  John.  But  had  not  Marien 
Dounay  herself  taught  him  of  what  weakness  to  beware? 
That  flesh  is  flesh?  That  juxtaposition  is  danger?  Be 
sides,  should  not  the  disastrous  consequences  which  had 
followed  from  his  contacts  with  the  woman  have  made 
him  forever  immune  from  the  effect  of  her  presence? 

John  approached  and  knocked  upon  the  door. 

His  knock  was  greeted  with  a  sound  like  the  purr  of 


23o  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

an  expectant  kitten,  and  the  knob  was  turned  by  Marien 
herself,  with  a  sudden  vigor  which  indicated  that  she  had 
bounded  instantly  to  admit  him. 

Her  manner,  in  most  startling  contrast  to  that  which 
she  had  displayed  at  the  church,  was  sparklingly  viva 
cious;  but  her  dress  was  more  disconcerting  than  her 
manner ;  in  fact,  to  the  minister,  it  seemed  that  very  same 
negligee  gown  whose  pleats  of  shimmering  black  with 
their  splotches  of  red,  had  clung  so  closely  to  her  form 
in  those  never-to-be-forgotten  hours  in  the  little  apart 
ment  on  Turk  Street  in  San  Francisco.  Her  hair,  too, 
flowed  unconfmed  as  then.  The  picture  called  up  over 
whelming  memories,  against  which  the  minister  in  the 
man  struggled  valiantly. 

"  I  have  not  worn  it  since,  until  to-night,"  the  woman 
purred  softly,  happy  as  a  child  over  his  glance  of  recog 
nition;  but  when  Hampstead,  in  uncompromising  silence, 
stood  surveying  her  critically,  she  asked  archly  and  a  bit 
anxiously,  "  Are  you  shocked  ?  " 

"  Well,"  he  replied  a  trifle  severely,  "  you  must  admit 
that  this  is  not  sackcloth  and  ashes." 

"  It  is  my  soul,  not  my  body,  that  is  in  mourning," 
Marien  urged  apologetically,  trying  the  effect  of  a  melt 
ing  glance,  after  which,  walking  half  the  length  of  the 
room  she  turned  again  and  invited  him  to  lay  off  his 
overcoat  and  be  seated.  John  could  not  resist  the  play 
ful  calculation  of  her  manner  without  seeming  heartless; 
and  yet  he  did  resist  it,  standing  noncommittally  while 
his  eyes  sought  the  circumference  of  the  room  inquiringly. 

"  And  look ! "  went  on  Marien  enthusiastically,  for 
she  was  trying  pitifully  by  sheer  force  of  personality  to 
recreate  the  atmosphere  of  their  old  relationship  in  its 
happiest  moments.  "  See,  here  is  the  Roman  chair,  or 
at  least  one  like  it;  and  there  the  divan,  piled  high  with 
cushions;  I  am  as  fond  of  cushions  as  ever.  You  shall 


A  CRY  OF  DISTRESS  231 

sit  where  you  sat;  I  shall  recline  where  I  reclined.  We 
will  stage  the  old  scene  again." 

"  Not  the  old  scene,"  replied  the  minister,  with  quiet 
emphasis,  feeling  just  a  little  as  if  he  had  been  trapped. 

Still  his  strength  was  always  sapped  on  Sunday  night ; 
and  no  doubt  in  utter  weariness,  one's  power  of  resistance 
is  somewhat  lowered.  Besides,  Marien  was  so  beautiful 
and  so  winning  in  manner;  her  arms  gleamed  so  softly 
in  their  circle  of  silk  and  filmy  lace,  and  there  was  in  the 
atmosphere  of  the  room  an  abundance  of  an  indefinable 
something  which  was  like  a  rare  perfume  and  yet  was 
not  a  perfume  at  all,  but  that  effect  of  lure  and  challenge 
which  her  mere  presence  always  had  upon  the  senses  of 
this  man. 

Moreover,  it  seemed  so  fitting  to  see  this  exquisite 
creature  happy  instead  of  sad  that  it  would  have  taken 
a  coarser  nature  than  John  Hampstead's  to  break  in  bru 
tally  upon  her  whimsical  happiness  of  mood.  He  judged 
it  therefore  the  mere  part  of  tact  to  remove  his  overcoat. 

"  Julie !  "  called  Marien,  and  there  was  a  not  entirely 
suppressed  note  of  triumph  in  her  tone. 

The  little  French  maid  appeared  with  suspicious 
promptness  from  behind  swinging  portieres  to  receive  the 
coat  and  to  give  the  big  man,  whom  she  had  always  liked, 
shy  welcome  upon  her  own  account. 

True  to  her  nature,  Miss  Dounay's  every  movement 
was  theatric.  She  stood  complacently  by  until  the  maid 
had  done  her  service  and  withdrawn.  Then  pointing  to 
the  Roman  chair,  she  said  to  Hampstead : 

"  Sit  there  and  wait.  I  have  something  to  show  you, 
something  beautiful  —  wonderful  —  overwhelming  al 
most!" 

Hesitating  only  long  enough  to  see  that  the  minister, 
although  a  bit  suspicious,  complied  politely  with  her  re 
quest,  Marien,  with  dramatic  directness,  and  humming 


232  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

the  while  a  teasing  little  tune,  followed  Julie  out  through 
the  portieres,  but  in  passing  swung  the  curtains  wide  as 
an  invitation  to  her  caller's  eyes  to  pursue  her  to  where 
she  stopped  before  a  chiffonier  which  was  turned  obliquely 
across  the  corner  of  the  large  inner  room. 

Marien's  shoulder  was  toward  John,  but  the  mirror  be 
yond  framed  her  face  exquisitely,  with  its  hood  of  flowing 
hair  and  the  expansive  whiteness  of  her  bosom  to  the  cor 
sage,  while  the  long  dark  lashes  painted  a  feathery  shadow 
upon  her  cheeks  as  her  eyes  looked  downward  to  some 
thing  before  her  on  the  chiffonier.  For  a  moment  she 
stood  motionless,  as  if  charmed  by  the  sight  on  which 
their  glance  rested.  Then,  using  both  hands,  she  lifted 
the  object,  and  instantly  the  mirror  flashed  to  the  watching 
man  the  picture  of  a  swaying  rope  of  diamonds.  They 
seemed  to  him  an  aurora-borealis  of  jewels,  sparkling 
more  brilliantly  than  the  light  of  Marien's  eyes,  as  she  held 
them  before  her  face  for  an  instant,  and  then,  with  a 
graceful  movement  which  magnified  the  beauty  of  her 
rounded  arms  and  the  smoothly-chiseled  column  of  her 
throat,  threw  back  the  close-lying  strands  of  her  hair  to 
fasten  the  chain  behind  her  neck. 

For  another  second  the  mirror  showed  her  patting  her 
bosom  complacently,  as  if  her  white  fingers  were  loving 
the  diamonds  into  the  form  of  a  perfect  crescent,  which, 
presently  attained,  she  surveyed  with  evident  satisfaction. 
Turning,  she  advanced  toward  her  guest  with  hands  at 
first  uplifted  and  then  clasped  before  her  in  an  ecstasy  of 
delight,  while  she  laughed  musically,  like  a  child  intoxi 
cated  by  the  joy  of  some  long  anticipated  pleasure. 

Upon  a  man  whose  love  of  beauty  was  as  great  as  John 
Hampstead's,  the  effect  was  shrewdly  calculated  and  the 
result  all  that  heaven  had  intended. 

"  Wonderful !  "  he  exclaimed,  leaping  up  to  meet  her  as 
she  advanced.  "  Splendid !  Magnificent !  " 


A  CRY  OF  DISTRESS  233 

Each  adjective  was  more  emphatically  uttered  than  the 
last. 

Satisfied  beyond  measure  with  the  effect  of  her  diver 
sion,  the  calculating  woman  drew  close  with  a  complete 
return  of  all  her  old  assurance  and  stood  like  a  radiant 
statue,  a  happy  flush  heightening  on  her  cheeks,  while  the 
minister,  entirely  unabashed,  feasted  his  eyes  frankly  on 
the  beauty  of  the  jewels  and  the  snowy  softness  of  their 
setting.  When,  after  a  moment,  Marien  made  use  of 
his  hand  as  a  support  on  which  to  pivot  gracefully  about 
and  let  herself  down  with  dainty  elegance  into  the  midst 
of  her  throne  of  cushions,  Hampstead  stood,  a  little  lost, 
gazing  downward  at  the  vision  as  though  spellbound  by 
its  loveliness. 

For  a  moment  the  actress  was  supremely  confident. 
Breathing  softly,  her  dark  eyes  swimming  like  pools  of 
liquid  light,  into  which  her  long  lashes  cast  a  fringe  of 
foliate  shadows,  she  contemplated  John  Hampstead,  tall, 
strong,  clean,  healthful  looking,  his  yellow  hair,  his  high- 
arched  viking  brows,  the  look  of  kindliness  and  the  cast  of 
nobility  into  which  the  years  had  moulded  his  features,  un 
til  it  seemed  to  her  that  she  must  spring  up  and  drag  him 
down  to  her  lair  of  cushions  like  a  prize. 

But  she  made  no  impulsive  move.  Instead,  she 
breathed  softly :  "  Doctor  Hampstead,  will  you  touch 
that  button,  please?" 

John  complied  courteously,  but  mechanically,  as  if 
charmed.  The  more  brilliant  lights  in  the  room  were  in 
stantly  extinguished.  What  remained  flowed  from  the 
shrouding  red  silk  of  the  table  lamp  so  softly  that  while 
all  objects  in  the  room  remained  clearly  distinguishable 
even  to  their  detail,  there  was  not  a  garish  beam  any 
where. 

It  was  a  fitting  atmosphere  for  confession,  and  even  the 
diamonds  in  this  smothered  light  seemed  suddenly  to  grow 


234  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

communicative,  to  multiply  their  luster,  and  to  break  more 
readily  into  the  prismatic  elements  of  color. 

"  More  and  more  beautiful,"  Hampstead  murmured, 
passing  a  hand  across  his  brow. 

"  Sit  down !  "  Marien  breathed  softly,  motioning  toward 
the  Roman  chair. 

Hampstead  was  surprised  to  find  how  near  the  divan  the 
inanimate  chair  appeared  to  have  removed  itself.  Had 
he  pushed  it  absently  with  his  leg,  as  he  made  place  for 
her,  or  had  she,  or  had  the  thing  itself  —  insensate  wood 
and  leather  and  plush  —  felt,  too,  the  irresistible  thrall  of 
this  magnetic,  beauty-dowered  creature  who  snuggled 
amid  these  silken  panniers  ? 

"  I  do  not  know  diamonds  very  well,"  the  minister  con 
fessed,  sinking  down  into  the  chair. 

"  Look  at  them,"  Marien  said,  with  a  delightful  note  of 
intimacy  in  her  voice,  at  the  same  time  lowering  her  chin 
close,  in  order  to  survey  the  jewels  as  they  lay  upon  her 
breast. 

In  John's  eyes,  this  downcast  glance  gave  Marien  an 
expression  that  was  Madonna-like  and  holy,  and  this  again 
deepened  his  feeling  of  pity  for  her  heartaches,  and  his 
anxiety  to  help  her  in  what  it  was  her  whim  to  mask  from 
him  for  the  moment  with  all  this  childish  play  of  interest 
in  her  jewels  and  in  her  own  beauty.  But  it  also  disposed 
him  to  humor  her  the  more,  removing  all  sense  of  re 
straint  when  he  followed  the  glance  of  her  eye  to  where 
the  more  brilliant  stones  of  the  pendant  lay  in  the  snowy 
vale  of  her  bosom,  or  when,  leaning  closer  still,  he  could 
see  that  their  intermittent  flashing  facets  were  responding 
to  the  pulsing  of  her  heart. 

"  And  what  is  the  amber  stone  ?  "  he  asked  innocently. 

"  Amber !  "  Marien  laughed.  "  It  is  a  canary  diamond, 
the  finest  stone  of  all.  It  alone  cost  four  thousand  dol 
lars." 


A  CRY  OF  DISTRESS  235 

"  Four  thousand  dollars !  "  The  minister  drew  in  his 
breath  slowly.  "  It  had  not  occurred  to  me  that  there 
were  such  jewels  outside  of  royal  crowns  and  detective 
stories,"  he  stammered.  "  Four  thousand  dollars ! 
What  did  the  whole  necklace  cost?  " 

"  Twenty-two,"  the  actress  answered  almost  boastfully, 
again  bending  to  survey  the  blazing  inverted  arch  of 
jewels. 

"  Thousand  ?  "  The  minister's  inflection  expressed  his 
incredulousness. 

"  Thousand,"  Marien  iterated  with  a  complacent  drop 
of  the  voice,  and  then,  while  the  fingers  of  one  hand  toyed 
with  the  pendant,  went  on:  "I  have  a  perfect  passion 
for  diamonds !  That  canary  stone  has  temperament,  life 
almost.  Perhaps  it  is  a  whim  of  mine,  but  it  seems  to  me 
that  it  reflects  my  moods.  When  I  am  downcast,  it  is  dull 
and  lusterless ;  when  I  am  happy,  it  flashes  brilliantly,  like 
a  blazing  sun. 

"  It  is  influenced  by  those  whom  I  am  with.  It  never 
burned  so  brilliantly  as  now.  Your  presence  has  an  ef 
fect  upon  it.  Cup  your  fingers  and  hold  it  for  a  moment, 
and  see,  after  an  interval,  if  its  luster  does  not  change." 

Astonished  at  the  feeling  of  easy  intimacy  which  had 
been  established  between  them  so  completely  that  he  saw 
no  reason  at  all  why  he  should  refuse,  Hampstead  did  as 
he  was  bidden,  although  to  hold  the  brilliant  stone  it  was 
necessary  for  the  heads  of  the  two  to  be  drawn  very  close, 
so  that  the  tawny,  wavy,  loose-lying  locks  of  the  minister 
and  the  dark  glistening  mass  of  the  woman's  hair  were  all 
but  intertwined,  while  the  four  eyes  converged  upon  the 
diamond,  and  the  two  bodies  were  breathless  and  poised 
with  watching. 

Presently  the  man  felt  his  vision  swimming.  He  saw 
no  single  jewel,  but  a  myriad  of  lights.  He  ceased  to  feel 
the  gem  in  his  hollowed  fingers,  and  was  conscious  instead 


236  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

of  a  soft,  magnetic  glow  upon  the  under  side  of  his  hand. 

In  the  same  instant,  he  became  aware  that  Marien's 
eyes  no  longer  watched  the  stone,  but  were  bent  upon  his 
face,  and  he  felt  a  breath  upon  his  cheek  as  her  lips  parted, 
and  she  murmured  softly : 

"  John." 

This  word  and  touch  together  gave  instant  warning  to 
the  Reverend  Doctor  Hampstead  of  the  spell  under  which 
he  was  passing, —  a  spell  mixed  in  equal  parts  from  the 
responsiveness  of  his  own  nature  to  all  beauty  of  form, 
animate  or  inanimate,  and  from  the  subtle  sympathy  which 
the  rich,  seductive  personality  of  Marien  Dounay  had 
swiftly  conjured.  The  shock  of  this  discovery  was  en 
tirely  sufficient  to  break  the  potency  of  the  charm. 

"  It  did  seem  to  change,  I  thought,"  the  minister  said 
casually,  at  the  same  time  slipping  his  hand  gently  from 
beneath  the  jewel. 

By  the  slightly  altered  tone  in  his  speech  and  the  easy 
resumption  of  his  pose  in  the  chair,  Marien  perceived  that 
the  minister  and  his  purpose  was  again  uppermost  in  her 
caller. 

As  for  John,  slightly  irritated  with  himself,  and  yet 
feeling  it  still  the  part  of  tact  to  show  no  irritation  with 
Marien,  he  guided  the  situation  safely  past  its  moment  of 
restraint. 

"  You  said  there  was  something  you  wished  to  tell  me," 
he  reminded  her  gently ;  then  added  gravely :  "  That  is 
why  I  came  to-night.  I  was  to  be  your  father-confessor." 

The  considerateness  of  Hampstead's  tone  and  manner 
was  as  impressive  as  it  was  compelling.  Marien's  face 
became  instantly  sober,  and  she  fidgeted  for  a  time  in 
silence  as  if  it  were  increasingly  difficult  to  broach  the  sub 
ject,  but  finally  she  labored  out : 

"  You  misunderstood  me  horribly  once  —  horribly !  " 

With  this  much  communicated,  she  stopped  as  abruptly 


A  CRY  OF  DISTRESS  237 

as  she  had  begun,  while  a  frightened  look  invaded  her 
liquid  eyes. 

"  Misunderstood  you,"  Hampstead  iterated  gently,  but 
with  firmness,  "  I  understood  you  so  well  that  except 
through  an  impersonal  desire  to  be  helpful,  I  should  never 
have  come  here." 

The  very  dignity  and  measured  self-restraint  of  the 
minister's  utterance  robbed  the  woman  of  her  usual  ad 
mirable  self-mastery.  She  cowered  with  timid  face  amid 
her  pillows,  as  her  mind  leaped  back  to  that  night  in  the 
restaurant  with  Litschi,  and  the  terrible  lengths  to  which 
she  had  gone  to  shock  this  same  big,  dynamic,  ardent 
Hampstead  from  his  pursuit  of  her. 

As  if  it  were  compromising  himself  to  sit  silent  while  he 
read  her  thoughts  and  heard  again  in  his  own  ears  that 
terrible  speech,  the  minister  went  on  to  say  sternly : 

"  You  know  that  I  shrank  then,  as  from  a  loathsome 
thing,  at  the  price  you  were  willing  to  pay  for  your  suc 
cess.  I  must  forewarn  you  that  the  memory  does  not 
seem  less  abhorrent  now  than  the  fact  did  then." 

When  Hampstead  bit  out  these  sentences  with  a  fire  of 
moral  intensity  burning  in  his  eyes,  the  quivering  figure 
upon  the  cushions  shuddered  and  shrank. 

"  Oh,  John !  "  a  broken  voice  pleaded.  "  Did  I  ever, 
ever  say  those  hateful  words  ?  Can  you  not  conceive  that 
they  were  false?  That  they  were  spoken  with  intent  to 
deceive  you,  to  drive  you  from  me,  to  leave  me  free  to 
make  my  way  alone,  unhampered,  as  I  knew  I  must  ?  " 

The  minister,  his  face  still  white  and  stern,  his  gray 
eyes  beaming  straight  through  widening  lids,  declared 
hotly :  "  No !  I  cannot  conceive  that  a  good  woman 
would  voluntarily  smirch  herself  like  that  in  the  eyes  of  a 
man  who  loved  her  for  any  other  single  purpose  than  the 
one  which  she  confessed,  an  ambition  that  was  inordinate 
and  —  immoral.  That  thought  was  in  your  speech,  and 


238  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

by  Heaven  " —  he  shook  an  accusing  finger  at  her  — "  I 
believe  it  was  in  your  purpose ! " 

The  woman  cowered  for  a  moment  longer  before 
Hampstead's  gaze,  then  a  single  dry  sob  broke  from  her, 
while  one  hand  covered  her  eyes,  and  the  other  stretched 
gropingly  to  him,  across  the  pillows. 

"  I  had  the  purpose,"  she  admitted  haltingly.  "  I  con 
fess  it  Is  it  not  pitiful?  "  and  the  lily  hand  which  had 
felt  its  way  so  pleadingly  across  the  embroidered  cushions 
opened  and  closed  its  fingers  on  nothing,  with  a  movement 
that  was  convulsive  and  appealing  beyond  words. 

"  Pitiful,"  the  minister  groaned.  "  My  God,  it  is 
tragic ! " 

"  Yes,"  she  went  on  presently,  in  a  calmer  voice  that 
was  more  resigned  and  sadly  reminiscent :  "  I  purposed 
it." 

And  there  she  stopped.  Her  tone  was  as  dry  as  ashes. 
This  man  had  surprised  her  by  revealing  a  startling 
amount  of  moral  force,  which  had  quickly  and  easily 
broken  down  her  coolly  conceived  purpose  to  make  him 
believe  that  his  sense  of  hearing  had  played  him  false  that 
night  in  the  restaurant.  She  had,  however,  confessed 
only  to  what  she  knew  he  knew ;  but  the  roused  conscience 
of  the  preacher  of  righteousness  detected  this  and  was  not 
to  be  evaded.  He  proposed  to  confront  this  woman  with 
her  sin. 

"You  confess  only  to  the  purpose?"  John  demanded 
accusingly. 

The  glance  of  the  woman  fell  before  his  blazing  eye. 
She  had  meant  to  answer  boldly,  triumphantly;  but  the 
sudden  fear  that  she  might  not  be  believed  made  her  a 
coward,  and  forced  the  realization  that  she  must  not  at 
tempt  to  deceive  this  man  in  anything. 

"  Sometimes  one  says  more  than  one  is  able  to  per 
form,"  she  whispered  weakly.  "  Sometimes  a  woman 


A  CRY  OF  DISTRESS  239 

names  a  price,  and  does  not  know  what  the  price  means, 
and  when  the  time  of  settlement  comes,  will  not  pay  it  — 
cannot  pay  it  —  because  there  is  something  in  her  deeper, 
more  overruling  than  her  own  conscious  will,  something 
that  refuses  to  be  betrayed !  "  The  last  words  were  torn 
out  of  her  throat  with  desperate  emphasis. 

John  sat  watching  the  woman  critically,  with  an  all  but 
unfriendly  eye,  while  she  struggled  over  this  utterance, 
yet  the  very  manner  of  it  compelled  him  to  believe  in  her 
absolute  sincerity  at  the  moment.  Her  revelation  was 
truthful,  no  doubt,  but  just  what  was  she  revealing?  The 
substance  was  so  contrary  to  his  presumption  that  his  com 
prehension  was  slow. 

"  You  mean,"  he  began  doubtfully  — 

Marien  took  instant  courage  in  his  doubt;  he  was  al 
most  convinced. 

"  I  mean,"  she  exclaimed,  leaping  up  with  an  expansive 
gesture  of  her  arms,  while  the  jewels,  like  her  eyes,  blazed 
with  the  intensity  of  her  emotion  :  "  I  mean  that  I  never 
paid  the  price!"  Her  voice  broke  into  a  wild  crescendo 
of  laughter  that  was  half  delirious  in  its  mingled  triumph 
and  joy.  Hampstead  himself  arose  involuntarily  and 
stood  with  a  look  first  of  amazement,  and  then  almost  of 
anger,  as  he  suddenly  seized  her  wrists,  holding  them  close 
in  his  powerful  grasp,  while  he  demanded  in  tones  hoarse 
with  a  pleading  that  was  in  contrast  to  his  manner : 

"  Marien,  are  you  telling  me  the  truth?  " 

The  woman  faced  his  searching  gaze  doubtfully  for  an 
instant ;  then  seeing  that  the  man  was  actually  anxious  to 
believe  her,  she  swayed  toward  him,  weakened  by  relief 
and  joy,  as  she  cried  impulsively : 

"  It  is  the  truth !  It  is  the  truth !  Oh,  God  knows  it  is 
the  truth ! " 

The  fierceness  of  the  minister's  grip  upon  her  wrists  in 
stantly  relaxed,  and  he  lowered  her  gently  to  the  cushions, 


240  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

where  she  sat  overcome  by  her  emotions  while  he  stood 
gazing  at  her  as  on  one  brought  back  from  the  dead,  ex 
pressions  of  wonder  and  thanksgiving  mingled  upon  his 
face. 

But  presently  a  reminiscent  look  came  into  Marien's 
eyes,  and  she  began  to  speak  rapidly,  as  if  eager  to  confirm 
her  vindication  by  the  summary  of  her  experiences. 

"  It  was  hard,  very  hard,"  she  began.  "  It  commenced 
in  that  first  careless,  ignorant  year  I  told  you  about.  I 
was  fighting  it  all  the  time ;  fighting  it  when  you  were  with 
me.  That  was  really  why  I  broke  out  of  Mowrey's  Com 
pany.  Men  —  such  beasts  of  men!  —  proffered  their 
help  continually,  but  not  upon  terms  that  I  could  accept. 
It  seemed,  eventually,  that  I  must  surrender.  I  taught 
myself  to  think  that  some  day,  perhaps  when  I  stood  at 
last  upon  the  very  threshold — "  she  paused  and  looked 
over  her  shoulder  at  some  unseen  terror.  "  But  the  time 
never  came.  I  burst  through  the  barriers  ahead  of  my 
pursuing  fears." 

The  actress  ceased  to  speak  and  sat  breathing  quickly, 
as  if  from  the  effects  of  an  exhausting  chase. 

Hampstead  turned  and  walked  to  the  window,  where, 
throwing  up  the  sash,  he  stood  filling  his  lungs  deeply  with 
delicious,  refreshing  draughts  of  the  outside  air.  Coming 
back,  he  halted  before  her  to  say  in  tones  of  earnest  con 
viction  : 

"  Marien  " —  he  had  called  her  Marien !  — "  I  feel  as  if 
the  burden  of  years  had  been  removed.  Few  things  have 
ever  lain  upon  my  heart  with  a  more  oppressive  sense  of 
the  awful  than  this  vision  of  you,  so  beautiful  and  so  pos 
sessed  of  genius,  consecrating  yourself  with  such  noble  de 
votion  to  a  lofty,  artistic  aim,  and  yet  prepared  to  — 
to  — "  His  words  faded  to  a  horrified  whisper,  and  find 
ing  himself  unable  to  conclude  the  sentence,  he  reached 
down  and  took  her  hand  in  both  of  his,  shaking  it  emo- 


A  CRY  OF  DISTRESS  241 

tionally  while  he  was  able  presently  to  say  reverently  and 
with  unction : 

"  God '  has  preserved  you,  Marien.  You  owe  Him 
everything." 

"  It  was  you  who  preserved  me,"  she  amended,  with 
jealous  emphasis  and  that  look  again  of  hungry  devotion 
which  he  had  seen  first  in  the  church.  "  It  is  you  to  whom 
I  owe  everything." 

"  I  preserved  you  ?  "  HaAipstead  asked,  now  completely 
mystified,  as  he  remembered  with  what  scornful  words 
and  looks  she  had  whipped  him  from  her  presence.  "  I 
do  not  understand.  We  pass  from  mystery  to  mystery. 
Is  it  that  which  you  said  you  must  tell  me  ?  " 

"  No.     I  have  told  you  what  I  wanted  to  tell  you." 

The  woman  was  again  entirely  at  her  ease,  shrugging 
her  beautiful  shoulders  and  yawning  lazily, —  a  carefully- 
staged  and  cat-like  yawn,  in  which  she  appeared  for  an 
instant  to  show  sharp  teeth  and  claws,  and  then  as  sud 
denly  to  bury  them  in  velvet. 

The  minister  stood  gazing  at  her  doubtfully. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

PURSUIT    BEGINS 

BOTH  recognized  that  the  time  had  come  to  close  the 
interview,  and  each  was  extremely  pleased  with  its  re 
sult.  Marien  had  demonstrated  to  her  complete  satis 
faction  that  this  minister  was  still  a  man;  that  his  flesh 
was  wax  and  would  therefore  melt.  She  believed  that 
to-night  she  had  seen  it  soften. 

As  for  John :  He  believed  that  this  evening  had  wit 
nessed  a  triumph  for  his  tact  and  his  moral  force.  His 
sympathy  was  wholly  with  the  woman.  Convinced 
afresh  that  there  was  something  sublime  in  her  char 
acter,  he  determined  to  give  her  every  opportunity  to 
reveal  herself  to  him,  and  to  spare  no  effort  upon  his 
own  account  to  redeem  her  life  from  that  ingrowing  self 
ishness  which  he  felt  sure  was  making  her  unhappy  now 
and  might  ultimately  rob  her  of  all  joy  in  its  most  splen 
did  achievements. 

"  I  shall  save  three  o'clock  to-morrow  for  you,"  Miss 
Dounay  proposed,  as  if  reading  the  minister's  purpose 
in  his  eye. 

But  John  Hampstead  was  a  man  of  many  duties,  whose 
time  was  not  easy  to  command. 

"  At  three,"  he  objected,  "  I  am  to  address  a  mother's 
meeting." 

"  At  four  then,"  Marien  suggested,  with  an  engaging 
smile. 

"  At  four  I  have  to  go  with  a  sad-hearted  man  to  see 
his  son  in  the  county  jail,"  John  explained  apologetically, 
as  he  scanned  his  date  book. 


PURSUIT  BEGINS  243 

"  At  five ! "  persisted  Marien,  the  smile  giving  way 
before  a  shadow  of  impatience. 

John  laughed. 

"  It  must  seem  funny  to  you,"  he  declared,  "  but  I 
have  an  engagement  at  five-thirty  which  makes  it  im 
possible  to  be  here  at  five.  The  engagement  itself  would 
seem  funnier  still ;  but  to  me  it  is  not  funny  —  only  one 
of  the  tragedies  into  which  my  life  is  continually  drawn. 
At  that  hour  I  am  to  visit  a  poor  woman  who  lives  on  a 
house  boat  on  the  canal.  Monday  is  her  husband's  pay 
day,  and  he  invariably  reaches  home  on  that  night  in 
flamed  with  liquor,  and  abuses  the  woman  outrageously. 
I  have  promised  to  be  with  her  when  he  comes  in.  I 
may  wait  an  hour,  and  I  may  wait  half  the  night." 

"  Oh,"  gasped  Marien,  with  a  note  of  apprehension. 
'"And  suppose  he  turns  his  violence  on  you?" 

"  Why,  then  I  shall  defend  myself,"  John  answered, 
good-humoredly,  "  but  without  hurting  Olaf . 

"  I  am  likely  to  spend  the  night  on  that  canal  boat," 
he  added,  "  and  in  the  morning  Olaf  will  be  ashamed 
and  perhaps  penitent.  He  may  thank  me  and  ask  me 
to  meet  him  at  the  factory  gate  next  Monday  night  and 
walk  home  with  him  to  make  sure  that  his  pay  envelope 
gets  safely  past  the  door  of  intervening  saloons." 

"  But  why  so  much  concern  about  unimportant  people 
like  that  ?  "  questioned  Marien,  her  eyes  big  with  curi 
osity  and  wonder. 

"  Any  person  in  need  is  important  to  me,"  confessed 
John  modestly. 

"  But  how  can  you  spare  the  time  from  the  regular 
work  of  the  church?" 

"  That  is  my  regular  work:" 

Marien  paused  a  moment  as  if  baffled. 

"  But  —  but  I  thought  a  minister's  work  was  to  preach 
• —  so  eloquently  that  people  will  not  get  drunk ;  to  pray, 


244  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

so  earnestly  that  God  will  make  men  strong  enough  to 
resist  temptation." 

"  But  suppose,"  smiled  John,  "  that  I  am  God's  an 
swer  to  prayer,  his  means  of  helping  Olaf  to  resist 
temptation.  That  is  the  mission  of  my  church,  at  least 
that  is  my  ideal  for  it;  not  a  group  of  heaven-bound  joy 
riders,  but  a  life-saving  crew.  There  are  twenty  men 
in  my  church  who  would  meet  Olaf  at  a  word  from  me 
and  walk  home  with  him  every  night  till  he  felt  able  to 
get  by  the  swinging  doors  upon  his  own  will." 

Marien's  eyes  were  shining  with  a  new  light. 

"  That  is  practical  religion,"  she  declared. 

"  Cut  out  the  modifier,"  amended  John.  "  That  is 
religion !  There  are,"  he  went  on,  "  even  some  in  my 
congregation  who  would  take  my  watch  upon  the  canal 
boat;  but  I  prefer  to  go  myself  because — " 

"  Because,"  Marien  broke  in  suddenly,  "  because  it 
is  dangerous."  Her  glance  was  full  of  a  new  admiration 
for  the  quiet-speaking  man  before  her,  in  whose  eyes 
burned  that  light  of  almost  fanatical  ardor  which  she 
and  others  had  marked  before. 

"  More  because  it  is  a  delicate  responsibility,"  the 
minister  amended  once  more.  "  Tact  that  comes  with 
experience  is  essential,  as  well  as  strength." 

"And  do  you  do  many  things  like  that?"  Marien 
asked,  deeply  impressed. 

"  Each  day  is  like  a  quilt  of  crazy  patchwork,"  John 
laughed,  and  then  added  earnestly:  "You  would 
hardly  believe  the  insight  I  get  into  lives  of  every  sort 
and  at  every  stage  of  human  experience,  divorces,  quar 
rels,  feuds,  hatreds,  crimes,  loves,  collapses  of  health  or 
character  or  finance  —  crises  of  one  sort  or  another,  that 
make  people  lean  heavily  upon  a  man  who  is  disinter 
estedly  and  sympathetically  helpful." 

"And  your  reward   for  all  this  busybodying?  "  the 


PURSUIT  BEGINS  245 

actress  finally  asked,  at  the  same  time  forcing  a  laugh, 
as  if  trying  to  make  light  of  what  had  compelled  her  to- 
profound  thought. 

"  A  sufficient  reward/'  answered  John  happily,  "  is 
the  grateful  regard  in  which  hundreds,  and  I  think  I  may 
even  say  thousands,  of  people  throughout  the  city  hold 
me :  this,  and  the  ever- widening  doors  of  opportunity 
are  my  reward.  These  things  could  lift  poorer  clay 
than  mine  and  temper  it  like  steel.  The  people  lean  upon 
me.  I  could  never  fail  them,  and  they  could  never  fail 
me." 

The  exalted  confidence  of  the  man,  as  he  uttered  these 
last  words,  which  were  yet  without  egotism,  suggested 
the  tapping  of  vast  reservoirs  of  spiritual  force,  and  as 
before,  this  awed  Marien  a  little;  but  it  also  aroused  a 
petty  note  in  her  nature,  filling  her  with  a  jealousy  like 
that  she  had  experienced  in  the  church  when  she  saw 
John  surrounded  by  all  those  people  who  seemed  to  take 
possession  of  him  so  absolutely  and  with  such  disgusting 
self-assurance. 

Maneuvering  her  features  into  something  like  a  pout, 
she  asked  mockingly : 

"  And  since  you  would  not  leave  your  mother's  meet 
ing  and  your  jail-bird  and  your  wife-beater  for  me,  is 
there  any  time  at  all  when  an  all-seeing  Providence 
would  send  you  again  to  the  side  of  a  lonely  woman?  " 

The  minister  smiled  at  the  irony,  while  scanning  once 
more  the  pages  of  his  little  date-book.  "  To  look  in  after 
prayer  meeting  about  nine-thirty  on  Wednesday  night 
would  be  my  next  opportunity,  I  should  say,"  he  reported 
presently. 

"  Wednesday !  "  complained  Marien.  "  It  is  three 
eternities  away.  However,"  and  her  voice  grew  crisp 
with  decision,  "  Wednesday  night  it  shall  be.  In  the 
meantime,  do  you  speak  anywhere?  I  shall  attend  the 


246  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

mother's  meeting,  if  you  will  tell  me  where  it  is.  I 
shall  even  come  to  prayer  meeting;  and,"  she  concluded 
vivaciously;  "you  will  be  borne  away  by  me  trium 
phantly  in  my  new  French  car,  which  was  sent  out  here 
weeks  and  weeks  ago  to  be  tuned  up  and  ready  for  my 
coming." 

On  Wednesday  night  Miss  Dounay  made  good  her 
word.  When  the  little  prayer-meeting  audience  emerged 
from  the  chapel  room  of  All  People's,  it  gazed  won- 
deringly  at  a  huge  black  shape  on  wheels  that  rested  at 
the  curb  with  two  giant,  fiery  eyes  staring  into  the  night. 

The  old  sexton,  looking  down  from  the  open  door 
way,  saw  his  pastor  shut  into  this  luxurious  equipage 
with  two  strange  women,  for  Marien  was  properly  ac 
companied  by  Julie,  and  nodded  his  head  with  emphatic 
approval. 

"  Some  errand  of  mercy,"  he  mumbled  with  fervency. 
"  Brother  Hampstead  is  the  most  helpful  man  in  the 
world." 

Nor  was  this  the  last  appearance  of  Marien  Dounay 's 
shining  motor-car  before  the  door  of  All  People's.  It 
was  seen  also  in  front  of  the  palm-surrounded  cottage 
on  the  bay  front,  where  John  Hampstead  lived  with  his 
sister,  Rose,  and  the  children,  and  enjoyed,  at  times, 
some  brief  seclusion  from  his  busy,  pottering  life  of 
general  helpfulness. 

Once  the  car  even  stopped  before  the  home  of  the 
Angel  of  the  Chair,  perhaps  because  Hampstead  had  told 
Marien  casually  that  of  all  women  Mrs.  Burbeck  had 
alone  been  consistently  able  to  understand  him,  and  the 
actress  wished  to  learn  her  secret.  But  the  Angel  of  the 
Chair,  while  quite  unabashed  by  the  glamour  of  the  ac 
tress-presence,  nevertheless  refused  entirely  to  be  drawn 
into  talk  about  Brother  Hampstead,  who  was  usually  the 
most  enthusiastic  subject  of  her  conversation.  Instead 


PURSUIT  BEGINS  247 

she  spent  most  of  the  time  searching  the  depths  of  Miss 
Dounay's  baffling  eyes  with  a  look  from  her  own  lumi 
nous  orbs,  half -apprehensive  and  half-appealing,  that 
made  the  caller  exceedingly  uncomfortable;  so  that 
Marien  would  have  accounted  the  visit  fruitless  and  even 
unpleasant,  if  she  had  not,  while  there,  chanced  to  meet 
the  young  man  known  to  fortune  and  the  social  registers 
as  Rollo  Charles  Burbeck. 

Rollo  was  the  darling  son  of  the  Angel  and  the  pride 
of  the  Elder's  heart.  Tall,  blond,  handsome,  and  twenty- 
eight,  endowed  with  his  mother's  charm  of  manner  and 
a  certain  mixture  of  the  coarse  practicality  and  instinct 
for  leadership  which  his  father  possessed,  the  young  man 
had  come  to  look  upon  himself  as  a  sort  of  favorite  of 
the  fickle  goddess  for  whom  nothing  could  be  expected 
to  fall  out  otherwise  than  well.  Without  money  and 
without  prestige,  in  fact,  without  much  real  ability,  and 
more  because  as  a  figure  of  a  youth  he  was  good  to  look 
upon  and  possessed  of  smooth  amiability,  Rollie,  as  his 
friends  and  his  doting  mother  called  him,  had  risen 
through  the  lower  rounds  of  the  Amalgamated  National 
to  be  one  of  its  assistant  cashiers  and  a  sort  of  social 
handy-man  to  the  president,  very  much  in  the  sense  that 
this  astute  executive  had  political  handy-men  and  busi 
ness  handy-men  in  the  capacity  of  directors,  vice-presi 
dents,  and  even  minor  official  positions  in  his  bank. 

But  there  were,  nevertheless,  some  grains  of  sand  in 
the  bearings  of  Rollo's  spinning  chariot  wheels. 

In  his  capacity  as  an  Ambassador  to  the  Courts  of 
Society,  he  had  the  privilege  of  leaving  the  bank  quite 
early  in  the  afternoon,  when  his  presence  at  some  day 
light  function  might  give  pleasure  to  a  hostess  whose 
wealth  or  influence  made  her  favor  of  advantage  to  the 
Amalgamated  National.  He  might  sometimes  place 
himself  and  a  motor-car  at  the  disposal  of  a  distinguished 


248  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

visitor  from  outside  the  city,  might  dine  this  visitor  and 
wine  him,  might  roll  him  far  up  the  Piedmont  Heights, 
and  spread  before  his  eye  that  wonderful  picture  of  com 
mercial  and  industrial  life  below,  clasped  on  all  sides  by 
the  blue  breast  and  the  silvery,  horn-like  arms  of  the  Bay 
of  San  Francisco. 

All  these  things,  of  course,  involved  expenditures  of 
money  as  well  as  time.  The  bills  for  such  expenditures 
Rollo  might  take  to  the  president  of  the  bank,  who  wrote 
upon  them  with  his  fat  hand  and  a  gold  pencil,  "  O.  K. 
—  J.  M."  after  which  they  were  paid  and  charged  to  a 
certain  account  in  the  bank  entitled :  "  Miscellaneous." 
This,  not  unnaturally,  got  Rollie,  in  the  course  of  a 
couple  of  years,  into  luxurious  habits.  After  eating  a 
seven-dollar  dinner  with  the  financial  man  of  a  Chicago 
firm  of  bond  dealers,  it  was  not  the  easiest  thing  in  the 
world  to  content  himself  the  next  day  with  the  fifty-cent 
luncheon  which  his  own  salary  permitted.  Furthermore, 
Rollo,  because  of  his  standing  at  the  bank  and  his  social 
gifts,  was  drawn  into  clubs,  played  at  golf,  or  dawdled 
in  launches,  yachts,  or  automobiles  with  young  men  of 
idle  mind  who  were  able  to  toss  out  money  like  confetti. 
It  was  inevitable  that  circumstances  should  arise  under 
which  Rollo  also  had  to  toss,  or  look  to  himself  like  the 
contemptible  thing  called  "  piker."  Consequently,  he 
frequently  tossed  more  than  he  could  afford,  and  even 
tually  more  than  he  had. 

To  meet  this  drain  upon  resources  the  debonair  youth 
did  not  possess,  Rollie  resorted  to  undue  fattening  of  his 
expense  accounts,  but,  when  the  amounts  became  too 
large  to  be  safely  concealed  by  this  means  from  the 
scrutiny  of  J.  M.,  he  had  dangerous  recourse  to  misuse 
•of  checks  upon  a  certain  trust  fund  of  which  he  was  the 
custodian.  He  did  this  reluctantly,  it  must  be  under 
stood,  and  was  always  appalled  by  the  increasing  size  of 


PURSUIT  BEGINS  249 

the  deficit  he  was  making.  He  knew  too  that  some  day 
there  must  come  a  reckoning,  but  against  that  inevitable 
day  several  hopes  were  cherished. 

One  was  that  old  J.  M.,  brooding  genius  of  the  Amal 
gamated  National,  might  become  appreciative  and  double 
Rollie's  salary.  Yet  the  heart  of  J.  M.  was  traditionally 
so  hard  that  this  hope  was  comparatively  feeble.  In  fact, 
Rollie  would  have  confessed  himself  that  the  lottery 
ticket  which  he  bought  every  week,  and  whereby  he  stood 
to  win  fifteen  thousand  dollars,  was  a  more  solid  one. 
Besides  this,  hope  had  other  resources.  There  were,  for 
instance,  the  "  ponies "  which  part  of  the  year  were 
galloping  at  Emeryville,  only  a  few  miles  away,  and  there 
were  other  race  tracks  throughout  the  country,  and  pool 
rooms  conveniently  at  hand.  While  Rollie  was  too  timid 
to  lose  any  great  sum  at  these,  nevertheless  they  proved 
a  constant  drain,  and  the  only  real  asset  of  his  almost 
daily  venturing  was  the  doubtful  one  of  the  friendship 
of  "  Spider  "  Welsh,  the  bookmaker. 

Rollie's  first  test  of  this  friendship  was  made  neces 
sary  by  the  receipt  of  a  letter  notifying  him  that  the 
executors  of  the  estate  which  included  the  trust  fund 
he  had  been  looting  would  call  the  next  day  at  eleven  for 
a  formal  examination  of  the  account.  Rollie  at  the  mo 
ment  was  more  than  fifteen  hundred  dollars  short,  and 
getting  shorter.  That  night  he  went  furtively  through 
an  alley  to  the  back  room  of  the  bookmaker. 

"  Let  me  have  seventeen  hundred,  Spider,  for  three 
days,  and  I'll  give  you  my  note  for  two  thousand,"  he 
whispered  nervously. 

"What  security?  "  asked  the  Spider,  craft  and  money- 
lust  swimming  in  his  small,  greenish-yellow  eye. 

"  My  signature's  enough/'  said  Rollie,  bluffing 
weakly. 

"  Nothin'  doin',"  quoth  the  Spider  decisively. 


250  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

Cold  sweat  broke  out  on  Rollie's  brow  faster  than  he 
could  wipe  it  off. 

"  I'll  make  it  twenty-five  hundred/'  the  young  man 
said  hoarsely. 

Spider  looked  interested.  He  leaned  across  the  table, 
his  darting,  peculiar  glance  shifting  searchingly  from 
first  one  of  Rollie's  eyes  to  the  other,  his  form  half 
crouching,  his  whole  body  alert,  cruelty  depicted  on  his 
face  and  suggesting  that  his  nickname  was  no  accident 
but  a  sure  bit  of  underworld  characterization. 

"  Make  it  three  thousand,  and  I'll  lay  the  money  in 
your  hand,"  said  the  Spider  coldly. 

Rollie's  case  was  desperate.  He  drew  a  blank  note 
from  his  pocket,  filled  it,  and  signed  it;  then  passed  it 
across  the  table.  But  with  the  Spider's  seventeen  hun 
dred  deep  in  his  trousers  pockets,  the  feeling  that  he  had 
been  grossly  taken  advantage  of  seemed  to  demand  of 
Rollie  that  his  manhood  should  assert  itself. 

"  Spider,  you  are  a  thief ! "  he  proclaimed  truculently. 

"  I  guess  you  must  be  one  yourself,  or  you  wouldn't 
want  seventeen  hundred  in  such  a  hell  of  a  hurry,"  was 
Spider's  cool  rejoinder,  as  he  practically  shoved  Rollie 
out  of  his  back  door. 

Now  this  retort  of  Spider's  was  quite  a  shock  to  Rol 
lie;  but  there  are  shocks  and  shocks.  Moreover,  when 
the  executors  upon  their  scheduled  hour  came  to  Rollo 
Charles  Burbeck,  trustee,  and  found  his  accounts  and 
cash  balancing  to  a  cent,  which  was  exactly  as  they  ex 
pected  to  find  them,  why  this  in  itself  was  some  compen 
sation  for  taking  the  back-talk  even  of  a  bookmaker. 

But  the  next  day  Spider  Welsh's  roll  was  the  fatter  by 
three  thousand  dollars,  and  the  trust  account  was  short 
the  same  amount. 

Thereafter,  and  despite  good  resolutions,  the  size  of 
the  defalcation  began  immediately  to  grow  again,  al- 


PURSUIT  BEGINS  251 

though  Rollo,  if  he  suffered  much  anxiety  on  that  ac 
count,  concealed  it  admirably.  He  knew  that  under  the 
system  he  was  safe  for  the  present,  and  outwardly  he 
moulted  no  single  feather,  but  wore  his  well  tailored 
clothes  with  the  same  sleek  distinction,  and  laughed, 
chatted,  and  danced  his  way  farther  and  farther  into  the 
good  graces  of  clambering  society,  partly  sustained  by 
the  hope  that  even  though  lotteries  and  horse  races  failed 
him,  and  the  "  Old  Man's  "  heart  proved  adamant,  some 
rich  woman's  tender  fancy  might  fasten  itself  upon  him, 
and  a  wealthy  marriage  become  the  savior  of  his  im 
periled  fortunes. 

It  was  while  still  in  this  state  o-f  being,  but  with  that 
semi-annual  turning  over  of  dead  papers  again  only  a 
few  weeks  distant,  Rollo  was  greatly  amazed  to  blunder 
into  the  presence  of  Marien  Dounay  in  his  mother's  sun- 
room  at  four  o'clock  one  afternoon,  when  chance  had 
sent  him  home  to  don  a  yachting  costume.  A  little  out 
of  touch  with  things  at  All  People's,  the  young  man's 
surprise  at  finding  Miss  Dounay  tete-a-tete  with  his  own 
mother  was  the  greater  by  the  fact  that  he  knew  a  score 
of  ambitious  matrons  who  were  at  the  very  time  pulling 
every  string  within  their  reach  to  get  the  actress  on  exhi 
bition  as  one  of  their  social  possessions. 

Because  young  Burbeck's  interest  in  women  was  by 
the  nature  of  his  association  with  them  largely  mer 
cenary,  and  just  now  peculiarly  so  on  account  of  his  own 
haunting  embarrassment,  he  was  rather  impervious  to  the 
physical  charms  of  Miss  Dounay  herself.  He  only  saw 
something  brilliant,  dazzling,  convertible,  and  exerted 
himself  to  impress  her  favorably,  postponing  the  depar 
ture  upon  his  yachting  trip  dangerously  it  would  seem, 
had  not  the  two  got  on  so  well  together  that  the  actress 
offered  to  take  him  in  her  car  to  shorten  his  tardiness  at 
the  yacht  pier. 


252  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

After  this,  acquaintance  between  the  two  young  peo 
ple  ripened  swiftly.  Because  John  Hampstead  was  so 
busy,  Marien  had  an  abundance  of  idle  time  upon  her 
hands.  Agitated  continually  by  a  cat-like  restlessness, 
seeking  a  satiety  she  was  unable  to  find,  the  actress  had 
no  objections  to  spending  a  great  deal  of  this  idle  time 
upon  Rollo.  He  rode  with  her  in  that  swift-scudding, 
smooth-spinning  foreign  car.  She  sailed  with  him  upon 
the  bay  in  a  tiny  cruising  sloop  that  courtesy  dubbed  a 
yacht.  More  than  once  she  entertained  Rollie  with  one 
of  these  delightful  Bohemian  suppers  served  in  her  hotel 
suite,  sometimes  with  other  guests  and  sometimes  flat 
teringly  alone. 

Rollie  enjoyed  all  of  this,  but  without  succumbing 
seriously.  His  spread  of  canvas  was  too  small,  he  car 
ried  too  much  of  the  lead  of  deep  anxiety  upon  his  cen- 
terboard  to  keel  far  over  under  the  breeze  of  her  stiffest 
blandishments ;  but  all  the  while  he  held  her  acquaintance 
as  a  treasured  asset,  introducing  her  to  about-the-Bay 
society  with  such  calculating  discrimination  as  to  put 
under  lasting  obligations  to  himself  not  only  Mrs.  von 
Studdeford,  his  friend  and  patron,  but  certain  other  care 
fully  chosen  mistresses  of  money. 

As  for  Marien,  her  triumphs  were  still  too  recent,  her 
vanity  was  still  too  childish,  not  to  extract  considerable 
enjoyment  from  being  Exhibit  "  A  "  at  the  most  im 
portant  social  gatherings  the  community  offered ;  but  her 
complacence  was  at  all  times  modified  by  moods  and 
caprices.  She  would  disappoint  Rollie's  society  friends 
for  the  most  unsubstantial  reasons  and  appeared  to  think 
her  own  whimsical  change  of  purpose  an  entirely  suffi 
cient  explanation.  Sometimes  she  did  not  even  bother 
about  an  explanation,  and  her  manner  was  haughty  in 
the  extreme. 

Her  most  vexatious  trick  of  the  kind  was  to  disappear 


PURSUIT  BEGINS  253 

one  night  five  minutes  before  she  was  to  have  gone  with 
Rollie  to  be  guest  of  honor  at  a  dinner  given  by  Mrs. 
Ellsworth  Harrington.  The  hostess  raged  inconsolably, 
taking  her  revenge  on  Rollie  in  words  and  looks  which, 
in  her  quarter,  proclaimed  thumbs  down  for  long  upon 
that  unfortunate,  adventuring  youth. 

"  Take  me  about  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  years 
to  square  myself  with  that  double-chinned  queen,"  mut 
tered  Rollie,  standing  at  eleven  o'clock  of  the  same 
night  upon  the  corner  opposite  the  Hotel  St.  Albans 
and  looking  up  inquisitively  at  the  suite  of  Miss 
Dounay,  which  was  on  the  floor  immediately  beneath 
the  roof. 

The  young  man's  hat  was  pushed  back  so  that  his 
forehead  seemed  almost  high  and,  in  addition  to  its 
seeming,  the  brow  wore  a  disconsolate  frown. 

"  Looks  as  if  I'd  kind  of  lost  my  rabbit's  foot,"  he 
murmured,  relaxing  into  a  vernacular  that  neither  Mrs. 
Harrington,  Mrs.  von  Studdeford,  nor  other  ladies  of 
their  class  would  have  deemed  it  possible  to  flow  from 
the  irreproachable  lips  of  Rollo  Charles  Burbeck.  Yet 
his  friends  should  have  been  very  indulgent  with  Rollie 
to-night !  The  world  had  grown  suddenly  hard  for  him. 
The  executors  were  due  again  to-morrow ;  and  his  deficit 
had  passed  four  thousand  dollars. 

So  desperate  was  his  plight  that  for  an  hour  that  after 
noon  Rollie  had  actually  thought  of  throwing  himself 
upon  the  mercy  of  Mrs.  Ellsworth  Harrington,  who  had 
hundreds  of  thousands  in  her  own  right,  and  who  might 
have  saved  him  with  a  scratch  of  the  pen.  Her  heart 
had  been  really  soft  toward  Rollie,  too,  but  Marien's 
caprice  to-night  had  spoiled  all  chance  of  that.  Nothing 
remained  but  the  Spider.  Rollie  had  an  appointment 
with  him  in  fifteen  minutes. 

But  in  the  meantime  he  indulged  a  somber,  irritated 


254  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

curiosity  concerning  Miss  Dounay.  Since  staring  up 
ward  at  her  windows  brought  no  satisfaction  he  had  re 
course  to  the  telephone  booth  in  the  hotel  lobby,  and  got 
the  information  that  Miss  Dounay  was  out  but  had  left 
word  that  if  Mr.  Burbeck  called  he  was  to  be  told  he 
was  expected  at  ten-thirty  and  there  would  be  other 
guests. 

That  meant  supper,  and  a  lively  little  time.  No  doubt 
the  actress  would  try  to  make  amends.  Well,  Rollie 
would  most  surely  let  her.  He  had  no  intention  of  quar 
reling  with  an  asset,  even  though  occasionally  it  turned 
itself  into  a  liability.  But  it  was  now  past  ten-thirty, 
ten  forty-seven,  to  be  exact,  and  his  engagement  with  the 
Spider  was  at  eleven.  However,  since  his  hostess  was 
still  out,  and  therefore  would  be  late  at  her  own  party, 
his  prospective  tardiness  gave  the  young  man  no  con 
cern. 

But,  on  leaving  the  telephone  booth  and  advancing 
through  the  wide  lobby  of  the  hotel,  young  Burbeck  was 
surprised  to  see  Miss  Dounay's  car  driven  up  to  the  curb. 
There  she  was,  the  beautiful  devil!  Where  could  she 
have  been?  Yet,  since  Rollie's  curiosity  and  his  wish 
for  an  explanation  of  her  conduct  were  nothing  like 
so  great  as  his  desire  to  avoid  meeting  her  until  this 
business  with  the  Spider  was  off  his  mind,  he  executed  an 
oblique  movement  in  the  direction  of  the  side  exit;  but 
not  until  a  shoulder-wise  glance  had  revealed  to  him  the 
stalwart  form  of  the  Reverend  John  Hampstead  emerg 
ing  first  from  the  Dounay  limousine. 

"  The  preacher !  "  he  muttered  in  disgusted  tones,  "  I 
thought  so.  She's  nuts  on  him ;  or  he  is  on  her,  or  some 
thing.  Say !  "  and  the  young  man  came  to  an  abrupt 
stop,  while  his  eyes  opened  widely,  and  his  nostrils 
sniffed  the  air  as  if  he  scented  scandal.  "  I  wonder  if 
she  tried  the  same  line  of  stuff  on  the  parson,  and  he's 


PURSUIT  BEGINS  255 

falling  for  it?  It  certainly  would  be  tough  on  mother 
if  anything  went  wrong  with  her  sky  pilot." 

However,  Rollie's  own  exigencies  were  too  great  for 
him  to  forget  them  long,  even  in  contemplating  the  pros 
pective  downfall  of  a  popular  idol,  and  he  made  his  way 
to  his  engagement. 

Rollie  was  a  long  time  with  Spider.  Part  of  this 
delay  was  due  to  the  fact  that  the  Spider  was  broke.  He 
did  not  have  forty-two  hundred  dollars,  nor  any  appre 
ciable  portion  thereof.  Another  part  of  the  delay  was 
due  to  the  fact  that  Spider  took  some  time  in  elaborating 
a  plan  to  put  both  Rollie  and  himself  in  possession  of 
abundant  funds.  The  plan  was  grasped  upon  quickly, 
but,  being  a  detestable  coward,  Rollie  halted  long  before 
undertaking  an  enterprise  that  required  the  display  of 
nerve  and  daring  under  circumstances  where  failure 
meant  instant  ruin. 

However,  there  was  at  least  a  gambler's  chance,  while 
with  the  executors  to-morrow  there  was  no  chance.  In 
evitably,  therefore,  the  young  man,  white  of  face,  with  a 
lump  in  his  throat  and  a  flutter  in  his  breast,  gripped 
with  his  cold,  nerveless  hand  the  avaricious  palm  of 
Spider,  and  the  bargain  was  made.  Even  then,  however, 
there  was  a  stage  wait  while  an  emissary  of  the  Spider's 
went  on  a  dive-scouring  tour  that  in  twenty  minutes 
turned  up  a  short-haired,  scar-nosed  shadow  of  a  man 
who  answered  to  the  name  of  the  "  Red  Lizard ",  a 
designation  which  the  fiery  hue  of  his  skin  and  the  slimy 
manner  of  the  creature  amply  justified. 

Once  out  of  Spider's  place,  Rollie  lingered  in  the  alley 
long  enough  to  screw  his  scant  courage  to  the  place  where 
it  would  stick  for  a  few  hours  at  least;  and  at  precisely 
half-past  eleven,  looking  his  handsome,  debonair  self, 
his  open  overcoat  revealing  him  still  in  evening  dress,  and 
with  his  silk  hat  self -confidently  a-tilt,  he  sauntered  non- 


256  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

chalantly  through  the  lobby  of  the  Hotel  St.  Albans  to 
an  elevator  which  bore  him  skyward. 

The  pride  of  the  Elder  and  the  son  of  the  Angel,  the 
social  ambassador  of  the  Amalgamated  National,  was 
prepared  once  more  to  do  his  duty  by  his  fortune. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

CAPRICIOUS   WOMAN 

WITH  more  than  a  month  of  odd  hours  invested  upon 
Marien  Dounay,  the  Reverend  John  Hampstead  had  re 
luctantly  made  up  his  mind  that  failure  must  be  written 
over  his  efforts  in  her  behalf. 

She  had  never  told  him  the  secret  want  which  was 
making  her  unhappy.  Her  manner  and  her  mood  varied 
from  nights  of  ecstasy,  bordering  on  intoxication  of 
spirit,  to  depths  of  depression  which  suggested  that  the 
gifted  woman  was  suffering  from  some  sort  of  mania. 
She  was  always  eager  to  see  him,  always  clamoring  for 
more  of  his  time,  and  yet  after  the  first  week  or  so  he 
never  left  her  presence  without  being  made  to  feel  that 
her  hours  with  him  had  been  a  disappointment. 

To  tell  the  truth,  he  had  himself  been  greatly  disap 
pointed  in  her.  She  appeared  to  him  altogether  frivo 
lous,  altogether  worldly.  He  was  completely  convinced 
that  she  had  not  only  toyed  with  him  years  ago,  but  was 
toying  with  him  now,  although  of  course,  in  an  entirely 
different  way. 

For  five  days  he  had  not  seen  her,  but  hating  to  give 
up  entirely,  and  finding  himself  one  evening  in  the  vi 
cinity  of  the  Hotel  St.  Albans,  he  ventured  to  run  in 
upon  her  for  a  moment.  She  was  decked  as  if  for  an 
evening  party  in  a  dress  of  gold  and  spangles,  as  conspic 
uous  for  an  excess  of  materials  in  the  train  as  for  an 
utter  absence  of  them  about  the  arms  and  shoulders, 
which,  on  this  occasion,  even  the  blaze  of  diamonds  did 


258  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

not  redeem  from  a  look  of  nakedness  to  the  eyes  of  the 
minister, —  a  mental  reaction  which  any  student  of  psy 
chology  will  recognize  as  ample  evidence  that  John 
Hampstead,  man,  had  passed  entirely  beyond  the  power 
of  Marien  Dounay,  woman. 

Miss  Dounay  received  her  caller  with  that  low  purr  of 
surprise  and  gladness  which  was  characteristic,  and  in 
stantly  proposed  that  they  go  out  for  a  ride  on  the  foot 
hill  boulevard,  and  a  dinner  at  the  Three  Points  Inn. 

While  the  minister  had  not  planned  to  give  her  an 
evening,  this  was  one  of  the  rare  occasions  when  he  had 
leisure  time  at  his  disposal,  and  since  he  had  resolved 
to  make  one  last  effort  to  help  the  woman,  he  decided  to 
accept  the  invitation. 

The  evening,  however,  was  not  a  success.  The  din 
ner  was  good,  the  roads  were  smooth,  the  night  air  was 
balmy  and  full  of  a  thousand  perfumes  from  field  and 
garden ;  but  Miss  Dounay' s  mood,  at  first  merry,  sagged 
lower  and  lower  into  a  kind  of  sullen  despair,  in  which 
she  reproached  the  minister  bitterly  for  his  failure  to 
understand  her. 

Frangois,  the  chauffeur,  had,  by  command  of  his  mis 
tress,  stopped  the  car  on  the  curve  of  the  hill,  at  a  point 
where  the  bright  moon  made  faces  as  clear  as  day,  and, 
having  climbed  down  as  if  to  look  the  car  over,  they 
heard  his  boot  heels  grow  fainter  and  fainter  on  the 
graveled  road  as  he  tactfully  ambled  off  out  of  earshot. 

Hampstead  was  still  patient. 

"  I  have  been  so  earnest  in  my  desire  to  help  you/'  he 
said,  by  way  of  broaching  the  subject  again. 

"  You  cannot  help  me,"  Marien  snapped.  "  Some 
thing  bars  you.  Your  church,  your  position,  all  these 
foolish  women  who  are  in  love  with  you,  this  whole  com 
munity  which  has  made  a  '  property  '  god  of  you, —  they 
are  to  blame!  They  stand  between  us.  They  prevent 


CAPRICIOUS  WOMAN  259 

you  from  seeing  what  you  ought  to  see.  They  make  you 
blind.  You  think  you  are  humble.  It  is  a  mock 
humility.  Under  its  guise  you  hide  a  lofty  egotism. 
You  think  you  are  a  preacher;  you  are  not.  You  are 
still  an  actor,  playing  your  part,  and  playing  it  so  busily 
that  you  have  ceased  to  be  genuine.  All  this  sentiment 
which  you  display  for  the  suffering  and  needy  and  dis 
tressed  is  a  worked-up  sentiment.  It  goes  with  the  part 
you  play.  It  makes  you  blind,  false,  hypocritical !  " 

"  Miss  Dounay!  "  exclaimed  the  minister  sharply. 

But  beside  herself  writh  chagrin  and  disappointment, 
the  woman  ran  on  with  growing  scorn,  as  she  asked 
sneeringly :  "  Do  you  not  see  that  all  this  gaping  adora 
tion  is  unreal?  That  a  touch  would  overthrow  you?  A 
single  false  step,  and  the  newspapers  which  have  made 
you  for  the  sake  of  a  front-page  holiday  would  have 
another  holiday,  and  a  bigger  one,  in  tearing  you  down?  " 

Hampstead  gritted  his  teeth,  but  he  could  not  have 
stopped  her. 

"  Can  you  imagine  what  would  be  the  biggest  news 
story  that  could  break  to-morrow  morning  in  Oakland  ?  " 
she  persisted.  "  It  would  be  the  fall  of  John  Hamp 
stead.  Can't  you  see  it?"  she  laughed  derisively. 
"  Headlines  a  foot  tall  ?  Can't  you  hear  the  newsboys 
calling?  Can't  you  see  the  '  Sisters  '  whispering?  Can't 
you  see  the  gray  heads  bobbing?  The  pulpit  of  All  Peo 
ple's  declared  vacant!  John  Hampstead  a  by-word  and 
worse  —  a  joke!  Can't  you  see  it?  " 

Not  unnaturally,  the  minister  was  angry. 

"  No,"  he  said  sharply,  "  and  you  will  never  see  it, 
for  I  shall  not  take  that  single  false  step  of  which  you 
speak." 

"  Oh,  you  really  would  not  need  to  take  it,"  sneered 
the  actress,  with  a  sinister  note  in  her  voice,  "  a  man  in 
your  position  need  not  fall.  He  may  only  seem  to  fall." 


260  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

It  seemed  to  John  that  the  woman  was  actually  menac 
ing  him. 

"  Frangois !  "  he  called  sharply. 

The  chauffeur's  heels  came  clicking  back  from  around 
the  turn,  and  in  a  silence,  which  upon  Miss  Dounay's 
part  might  be  described  as  fuming,  and  upon  the  min 
ister's  as  aggressively  dignified,  the  couple  were  driven 
back  to  the  hotel,  arriving  in  time  for  Rollie  Burbeck  to 
emerge  from  the  telephone  booth,  to  observe  the  car, 
and  to  avoid  its  occupants. 

With  almost  an  elaboration  of  scrupulous  courtesy, 
the  minister  helped  Miss  Dounay  from  the  automobile, 
walked  with  her  to  the  elevator,  and  ascended  to  the 
doorway  of  her  apartment,  where,  extending  his  hand, 
he  said  sadly,  in  tones  of  finality,  but  without  a  trace  of 
any  other  feeling  than  regretful  sympathy :  "  I  still  de 
sire  to  befriend  you  as  I  may.  But  I  shall  not  be  able 
to  come  to  you  again/' 

To  his  surprise,  Marien  answered  him  with  something 
like  a  threat! 

"  It  is  I,"  she  rejoined  quickly,  "  who  will  come  to 
you.  I  do  not  know  how  it  is  to  happen  yet,  but  I  will 
come,  and  when  I  do  —  if  I  am  not  much  mistaken  —  you 
will  be  happier  to  receive  my  call  than  you  ever  were  to 
receive  one  in  all  your  life  before!" 

Again  there  was  menace  in  her  tone,  and  never  had 
she  looked  more  imperiously  regal  than  as  she  stood 
holding  the  loop  of  her  train  in  the  left  hand,  the  right 
upon  the  knob  of  the  door,  the  shimmering  evening  cloak 
pushed  back  to  reveal  her  gold  and  spangled  figure,  stand 
ing  arrow  straight,  while  the  dark  eyes  shot  defiance. 

Neither  had  she  ever  been  guilty  of  a  more  studied 
or  effective  bit  of  theatricalism  than  when,  immediately 
following  this  insinuating  speech,  the  actress  noiselessly 
propelled  the  door  inward,  revealing  the  presence  of  a 


CAPRICIOUS  WOMAN  261 

group  of  men  in  evening  dress  posed  about  the  room  in 
various  attitudes  of  boredom.  As  the  door  swung,  these 
men  turned  expectantly  and  with  quick  eyes  photographed 
the  picture  of  the  minister  in  the  hall,  his  sober,  per 
plexed  gaze  set  upon  the  figure  of  the  beautiful  woman, 
whose  features  had  instantly  changed  as  she  made  her 
entrance  upon  an  entirely  different  drama. 

"  Ah,  my  neglected  guests !  "  exclaimed  the  actress  in 
tones  of  mild  self-reproach.  "  You  will  forgive  my  not 
being  here  to  receive  you,  when  you  know  the  reason. 
Doctor  Hampstead  has  been  showing  me  some  of  the 
more  interesting  and  unusual  phases  of  that  eccentric 
parish  work  of  his,  over  which  you  Oaklanders  rave  so 
much.  And  now,  the  dear  good  man  was  hesitating  in 
the  hall  at  intruding  upon  our  little  party.  I  have  in 
sisted  that  he  shall  be  one  of  us.  Am  I  not  right,  gen 
tlemen?" 

Several  of  Miss  Dounay's  guests  were  well  known  to 
Hampstead  personally,  and  the  readiness  with  which  they 
dragged  him  within  attested  to  the  clergyman's  wide 
popularity  among  quite  different  sorts  of  very  much 
worth-while  persons,  for,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  Miss 
Dounay's  guests  were  rather  representative.  The  group 
included  an  editor,  an  associate  justice  of  the  Supreme 
Court,  a  prominent  merchant,  a  capitalist  or  two,  and 
other  persons,  either  of  achievement  or  position,  to  the 
number  of  some  eight  or  ten. 

Their  presence  witnessed  not  only  that  Miss  Dounay, 
in  her  liking  for  a  virile  type  of  man,  had  made  quick 
and  careful  selection  from  those  she  had  met  during  her 
short  stay  in  the  city,  but  also  testified  to  the  readiness 
with  which  this  type  responded  to  the  Dounay  personality. 

That  no  other  woman  was  present,  and  that  the  ac 
tress  should  assume  the  entire  responsibility  of  entertain 
ing  so  many  gentlemen  at  one  time,  was  entirely  in  keep- 


262  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

ing  with  her  particular  kind  of  vanity  and  the  situations 
it  was  bound  to  create. 

Standing  in  the  center  of  the  room,  wearing  that  ex 
pression  of  happy  radiance  which  admiration  invariably 
brought  to  her  face,  her  bare  shoulders  gleaming,  her 
jewels  blazing,  she  rotated  upon  her  heel  till  her  train 
wound  up  in  a  swirling  eddy  at  her  feet,  out  of  which 
she  bloomed  like  some  voluptuous  flower,  while  a  chorus 
of  "  Oh's  "  and  "  Ah's  "  of  laughing  adulation  followed 
the  revolution  of  her  eyes  about  the  circuit;  for  the  guests 
knew  that  to  their  hostess  this  little  gathering  was  a  play, 
and  their  part  was  to  enact  a  vigorously  approving  au 
dience. 

"  Gentlemen,"  she  proposed,  "  you  are  all  in  evening 
dress;  but  I," — and  she  shrugged  her  bewitching  shoul 
ders  naively, — "  I  have  been  in  this  gown  for  ages  — 
until  I  hate  it.  Will  you  indulge  me  a  little  longer?" 
And  she  inclined  her  head  in  the  direction  of  the  red 
portieres  through  which  she  had  gone  that  first  night 
to  don  the  diamonds  for  Hampstead. 

Of  course  the  gentlemen  excused  her,  and  Miss  Dounay 
achieved  Another  startling  theatricalism  by  reappearing 
in  an  astonishingly  short  time,  offering  the  most  surpris 
ing  contrast  to  her  former  self.  The  yellow  and  span 
gles  were  gone.  In  their  place  was  the  simplest  possible 
gown  of  soft  black  velvet,  with  only  a  narrow  band  pass 
ing  over  the  shoulders  and  framing  a  bust  like  marble 
for  its  whiteness  against  the  black.  The  dress  was  en 
tirely  without  ornament,  presenting  a  supreme  achieve 
ment  of  the  art  of  the  modiste,  in  that  it  appeared  not  so 
much  to  be  a  gown  as  a  bolt  of  velvet,  suddenly  caught 
up  and  draped  to  screen  her  figure  chastely  but  beauti 
fully,  at  the  same  time  it  revealed  and  even  emphasized 
those  swelling  curves  and  long  lines  which  lost  them 
selves  elusively  in  the  baffling  pliancy  of  her  remarkable 


CAPRICIOUS  WOMAN  263 

figure.  The  hair  was  worn  low  upon  the  neck,  and  the 
jewels  which  had  blazed  in  her  coiffure  like  a  dazzling 
crown  were  no  longer  in  evidence.  With  them  had  gone 
the  pendants  from  her  ears,  and  that  coruscating  circlet 
of  diamonds  from  the  neck,  which  was  her  chief  pride 
and  most  valuable  single  possession.  There  was  not  even 
a  band  of  gold  upon  her  arms,  nor  a  ring  upon  her  taper 
ing  finger.  Hence  what  the  admiring  circle  seemed  to 
see  was  not  something  brilliant  because  bedizened,  but  a 
creature  exquisite  because  genuine,  a  beauty  depending 
for  its  power  solely  upon  nature's  comeliness. 

No  woman  with  less  beauty  or  less  art,  desiring  to  be 
admired  as  Marien  Dounay  passionately  did,  could  have 
dared  this  contrast  successfully.  No  one  who  knew  men 
less  thoroughly  than  she  would  have  understood  that  for 
a  purely  professional  artist  to  attain  this  look  of  a  sim 
ple  womanly  woman  was  the  greatest  possible  triumph, 
stirring  every  instinct  of  admiration  and  of  chivalry. 

And  whatever  was  at  the  back  of  the  trick  Miss  Dounay 
had  played  —  and  there  was  generally  something  back 
of  her  caprices  —  in  thrusting  John  Hampstead,  with 
whom  she  had  practically  quarreled,  into  this  group  of 
guests,  she  appeared  to  forget  him  entirely  in  the  suc 
cession  of  whims,  moods,  and  graces  with  which  she 
proceeded  to  their  entertainment. 

For  one  thing,  she  admitted  them  to  the  large  room 
which  served  as  her  boudoir,  into  which  they  had  seen 
her  go  in  gold  and  spangles  to  emerge  like  a  miracle  in 
demure  black  velvet. 

Of  course,  there  was  an  excuse  for  thus  titillating  the 
curiosity  of  vigorous  men  with  that  lure  of  mysterious 
enchantment  which  lurks  in  the  boudoir  of  a  lovely 
woman,  and  the  excuse  was  that  the  room,  while  half- 
boudoir,  was  also  half-studio,  and  held  tables  on  which 
were  displayed  the  models  of  the  stage  sets  and  the  cos- 


264  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

turner's  designs  for  Miss  Dounay's  coming  London  pro 
duction. 

As  the  actress  had  divined,  the  inspection  of  these  fas 
cinating  details  of  stagecraft  interested  her  guests  as 
much  as  the  display  of  them  delighted  her. 

In  the  hour  which  ensued  before  the  supper,  a  colla 
tion  that  in  its  variety  and  substance  again  proved  how 
well  the  actress  comprehended  the  appetite  of  the  male, 
two  or  three  guests  arrived  tardily.  The  earliest  of  these 
to  enter  was  Rollo  Charles  Burbeck,  who  came  in  ample 
time  to  roam  about  the  room  of  mystery  at  will  with  the 
remainder  of  the  guests.  Indeed,  he  stayed  in  it  so  much 
that  its  enchantment  for  him  might  have  been  presumed 
to  be  greater  than  for  the  others. 

Before  the  supper,  too,  one  of  the  guests  craved  the 
liberty  of  departing.  This  was  the  Reverend  John 
Hampstead.  The  farewell  of  his  hostess  was  gracious 
and  without  the  slightest  reminiscence  of  anything  un 
pleasant,  but  he  was  prevented  from  more  than  men 
tally  congratulating  himself  upon  the  change  in  her  man 
ner  toward  him  by  the  fact  that  in  walking  some  ten  feet 
from  where  he  touched  the  fingers  of  his  hostess  to  where 
a  butler-sort  of  person,  borrowed  from  the  hotel  staff, 
stood  waiting  with  his  overcoat,  Doctor  Hampstead  came 
face  to  face  with  Rollie  Burbeck,  who  was  just  emerging 
from  the  boudoir-studio  with  a  disturbed  look  upon  his 
usually  placid  face,  as  if,  for  instance,  he  had  seen  a 
ghost. 

In  consequence,  the  minister  moved  down  the  corridor 
to  the  elevator,  not  pondering  upon  his  own  perplexities, 
but  thinking  to  himself,  "  I  wonder  now  if  that  young 
man  is  in  any  serious  trouble.  It  would  break  his 
mother's  heart  —  it  would  kill  her  if  he* were." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE  DAY   OF  ALL  DAYS 

NEXT  morning  Doctor  Hampstead  was  up  bright  and 
early,  clad  in  his  long  study  gown  and  walking,  according 
to  custom,  beneath  his  palm  trees,  while  he  reflected  on 
the  duties  of  the  day  before  him.  This  was  really  the 
day  of  all  days  for  him,  but  he  did  not  know  it. 

An  unpleasant  thought  of  Marien  Dounay  came  im 
pertinently  into  mind,  but  he  repressed  it.  He  had  failed 
with  her.  A  pity!  Yes;  but  his  work  was  too  big,  too 
important,  for  him  to  permit  it  to  be  interfered  with 
longer  by  any  individual. 

Besides,  there  were  with  him  this  morning  thoughts  of 
a  totally  different  woman,  whose  life  was  as  fresh  and 
beautiful  as  the  dew-kissed  flowers  about  him.  Five 
years  of  unswerving  devotion  on  his  part  had  all  but 
wiped  from  her  memory  the  admission  of  her  lover  which 
had  so  hurt  the  trusting  heart  of  Bessie.  That  confiding 
trust,  the  loss  of  which  her  pen  had  so  eloquently  la 
mented,  had  grown  again.  The  very  day  was  set.  In 
four  months  John  Hampstead  would  hold  Bessie  Mitchell 
in  his  arms,  and  this  time  it  seemed  to  him,  more  surely 
than  it  had  that  day  in  the  little  summer  house  by  the 
tiny  painted  park  in  Los  Angeles,  that  he  would  never, 
never  let  her  out  of  them. 

In  the  midst  of  these  reflections,  a  thud  sounded  on 
the  graveled  walk  at  the  minister's  feet.  It  was  the 
morning  paper  tightly  rolled  and  whirled  from  the  unerr 
ing  hand  of  a  boy  upon  a  flying  bicycle.  The  minister 


266  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

waved  his  hand  in  response  to  a  similar  salute  from  the 
grinning  urchin,  then  turned  and  looked  at  the  roll  of 
ink  and  paper  speculatively.  That  paper  was  the  world 
coming  to  sit  down  at  breakfast  with  him,  and  tell  him 
what  it  had  been  doing  in  the  past  twenty-four  hours.  It 
had  been  doing  some  desperate  things.  The  wide  strip 
of  mourning  at  the  end  of  the  bent  cylinder,  indicating 
tall  headlines,  showed  this.  The  paper  had  come  to  him 
to  make  confession  of  the  world's  sins.  This  was  right, 
for  he  was  one  of  the  world's  confessors. 

But  with  this  thought  came  another  which  had  oc 
curred  to  him  before.  This  was  that  he  had  won  his  con 
fessor's  gaberdine  too  cheaply.  He  had  gained  his  posi 
tion  as  a  deputy  saviour  of  mankind  at  too  small  la  cost. 
Sometimes  he  questioned  if  he  were  not  yet  to  be  made  to 
suffer  —  excruciatingly  —  supremely  —  if,  for  instance, 
Bessie  were  not  to  be  taken  from  him.  Yet  he  knew,  as 
he  reflected  somewhat  morbidly  to  this  effect,  that  such  a 
suffering  would  hardly  be  efficient.  It  must  be  some 
thing  within  himself,  something  volitional,  a  cup  which 
he  might  drink  or  refuse  to  drink.  The  world's  saviour 
was  not  Simon  of  Cyrene,  whom  they  compelled  to  bear 
the  cross,  butvthe  man  from  the  north,  who  took  up  his 
own  cross.  True,  Hampstead  had  thought  on  several 
occasions  that  he  was  taking  up  a  cross,  but  it  proved 
light  each  time,  and  turned  into  a  crown  either  of  public 
or  of  private  approbation.  Yet  the  cross  was  there,  if 
he  had  only  known  it,  in  the  tall  black  headlines  on  the 
paper  rolled  up  and  bent  tightly  and  lying  like  a  bomb  at 
his  feet. 

However,  instead  of  picking  up  the  paper,  he  strolled 
out  upon  the  sidewalk  and  down  for  a  turn  upon  the  sea 
wall.  The  lately  risen  sun  shot  a  ray  across  the  eastern 
hills,  and  the  dancing  waters  played  elfishly  with  its 
beams,  as  if  they  had  been  ten  thousand  tiny  mirrors.  A 


THE  DAY  OF  ALL  DAYS  267 

fresh  breeze  was  blowing,  and  as  the  minister  filled  his 
lungs  again  and  again  with  the  wave-washed  air,  it 
seemed  as  if  a  great  access  of  strength  were  flowing  into 
his  veins.  It  flowed  in  and  in  until  he  felt  himself 
stronger  than  he  had  ever  been  before  in  his  life. 

With  this  feeling  of  strength,  which  was  spiritual  as 
well  as  physical,  came  the  desire  to  test  it  against  some 
thing  big,  bigger  than  he  had  ever  faced  before.  All  un 
conscious  how  weak  his  puny  strength  would  be  against 
its  demands,  he  lifted  his  arms  towards  the  sky  like  a  sun- 
worshiper  and  prayed  that  the  day  before  him  might  be 
a  great  day. 

Then  leaving  the  sea-wall,  the  minister  walked  with 
swinging,  quite  un-gownly  strides  up  the  sidewalk  and 
turned  in  between  the  green  patches  of  lawn  before  his 
own  door,  picking  up  the  paper  and  unrolling  it  as  he 
mounted  the  porch.  On  the  step  before  the  top  one  he 
paused.  The  black  headline  was  before  his  eye. 

"DOUNAY  DIAMONDS  STOLEN"  was  its 
screaming  message. 

The  minister  was  quickly  gutting  the  column  of  its 
meaning,  when  a  step  upon  the  graveled  walk  behind 
startled  him  into  turning  suddenly  toward  the  street, 
where  between  the  polished  red  trunks  of  the  palms  and 
under  their  spreading  leaves  which  met  overhead,  he  saw 
framed  the  figure  of  Rollie  Burbeck,  halting  uncertainly, 
with  pale,  excited  face.  This  expression,  indeed,  was  a 
mere  exaggeration  of  the  very  look  Doctor  Hampstead 
had  last  seen  upon  it;  but  he  did  not  immediately  con 
nect  the  two. 

"  Your  mother !  "  exclaimed  the  clergyman  apprehen 
sively,  for  that  precious  life,  always  hanging  by  a  thread 
which  any  sudden  shock  might  snap,  was  a  constant 
source  of  anxiety  to  those  who  loved  the  Angel  of  the 
Chair.  "Something  has  happened  to  her?'* 


268  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  No !  To  me !  "  groaned  the  young  man  hoarsely, 
hurrying  forward  as  the  minister  stepped  down  to  meet 
him. 

"  Something  awful !     Can  I  see  you  absolutely  alone  ?  " 

"Why,  certainly,  Rollie,"  replied  the  minister  with 
ready  sympathy.  "  Come  this  way." 

Hastily  the  minister  led  his  caller  around  the  side  of 
the  wide,  low-lying  cottage  to  the  outside  entrance  of  his 
study. 

"  Is  that  door  locked  ?  "  asked  Rollie,  as,  once  inside 
the  room,  he  darted  a  frightened  glance  at  the  doorway 
connecting  with  the  rest  of  the  house. 

Although  knowing  himself  to  be  safe  from  interrup 
tion,  the  minister  tactfully  walked  over  and  turned  the 
key.  He  then  locked  the  outer  door  as  well,  lowered  the 
long  shade  at  the  wide  side  window,  and  snapped  on  the 
electric  light. 

"  No  eye  and  no  ear  can  see  or  hear  us  now,  save  one," 
he  said  with  sympathetic  gravity.  "  Sit  down." 

Rollie  sat  on  the  very  edge  of  the  Morris  chair,  his  el 
bows  on  the  ends  of  its  arms,  while  his  head  hung  for 
ward  with  an  expression  of  ghastliness  upon  the  weakly 
handsome  features. 

"  You  saw  the  paper?  "  he  began. 

The  minister  nodded. 

"  Here  they  are !  "  the  young  man  gulped,  the  words 
breaking  out  of  him  abruptly.  At  the  same  time  there 
was  a  quick  motion  of  his  hand,  and  a  rainbow  flash  from 
his  coat  pocket  to  the  blotter  upon  the  desk,  where  the 
circlet  of  diamonds  coiled  like  a  blazing  serpent  that  ap 
peared  to  sway  and  writhe  as  each  stone  trembled  from 
the  force  with  which  Burbeck  had  rid  himself  of  the  hate 
ful  touch.  The  minister  started  back  with  shock  and  a 
sudden  sense  of  recollection. 

"  Oh,    Rollie,"    he    groaned,    and   then    asked,    as   if 


THE  DAY  OF  ALL  DAYS  269 

not  quite  able  to  believe  his  eyes:     "  You  took  them? " 

"I  —  I  stole  them,"  the  excited  man  half-whispered. 

"  Why  ?  "  questioned  Hampstead,  still  wrestling  with 
his  astonishment. 

"  Because  I  am  short  in  my  accounts,"  Rollie  shud 
dered,  passing  a  despairing  hand  across  his  eyes.  "  I 
have  to  have  money  to-day,  or  I  am  ruined." 

"  But  you  could  not  turn  these  into  money.  You  must 
have  been  beside  yourself." 

"  No !  "  replied  the  excited  man,  with  husky,  explosive 
utterance ;  "  the  scheme  was  all  right.  Spider  Welsh 
was  going  to  handle  'em  for  me.  We  were  to  split  four 
ways.  But  the  Red  Lizard  fell  down." 

"The  Red  Lizard?"  interrupted  the  minister;  for  he 
knew  the  man  who  bore  the  suggestive  title. 

"  Yes.  He  was  to  hang  a  rope  down  from  the  cornice 
on  the  roof  of  the  hotel,  opposite  her  window,  so  it  would 
look  like  an  outside  job,  and  he  didn't  do  it.  I  got  the 
diamonds  easy  enough  —  easier  than  I  expected  —  you 
know  how  that  was,  with  all  those  people  coming  and  go 
ing  in  that  room.  But  I  went  to  bed  and  couldn't  sleep 
for  thinking  about  the  rope.  I  got  up  before  daylight 
and  went  down  to  see  if  it  was  there.  So  help  me 
God,  there's  no  rope  swinging.  That  makes  it  an  inside 
job;  it  puts  it  up  to  the  guests.  By  a  process  of  elimina 
tion,  they'll  come  down  to  me.  I  am  ruined  any  way  you 
look  at  it,  and  the  shock  will  kill  mother!  " 

The  minister  studied  the  face  of  his  caller  critically. 
Did  he  love  his  mother  enough  to  greatly  care  on  her 
account,  or  was  this  merely  an  afterthought? 

"  What  am  I  going  to  do?  "  the  shaken  Rollie  gasped 
hoarsely,  his  eyes  fixing  themselves  in  helpless  appeal 
upon  the  clergyman. 

"  The  thing  to  do  is  clear,"  announced  the  minister 
bluntly.  "  Take  these  diamonds  straight  back  to  Miss 


270  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

Dounay.  Tell  her  you  stole  them.  Throw  yourself  on 
her  mercy." 

A  sickly  smile  curled  upon  the  young  man's  lip. 

"  Her  mercy  ?  "  he  repeated.  "  Do  you  think  that 
woman  has  any  mercy  in  her?  She  has  got  the  worst 
disposition  God  ever  gave  a  woman.  She  would  tear  me 
to  pieces." 

The  young  fellow  again  lifted  a  hand  before  his  eyes, 
shuddering  and  reeling  as  though  he  might  faint. 

With  a  feeling  almost  of  contempt,  Hampstead  gripped 
him  by  the  shoulder  and  shook  him  sternly. 

"  Your  situation  calls  for  the  exercise  of  some  man 
hood —  if  you  have  it,"  he  said  sharply.  "Tell  me. 
Why  did  you  come  here?" 

"  To  get  you  to  help  me  out ! "  the  broken  man  mur 
mured  helplessly,  twisting  his  hat  in  his  hands.  "  That 
was  all.  I  won't  lie  to  you.  You've  never  turned  any 
body  down.  Don't  turn  me  down !  " 

"  It  was  on  your  mother's  account  ?  " 

"  No,  I'm  not  as  unselfish  as  that.  It's  just  myself. 
I  don't  know  what's  the  matter  with  me.  I've  lost  my 
nerve.  I  had  it  all  right  enough  when  I  took  'em,  ex 
cept  for  just  a  minute  after;  that's  when  I  met  you 
going  away,  and  with  that  damned  uncanny  way  of  yours 
you  dropped  on  that  something  was  wrong.  But  I  had 
my  nerve  all  right;  I  had  it  till  I  got  out  there  on  the 
street  this  morning  and  that  rope  wasn't  swinging  there 
over  the  cornice.  Damn  the  Red  Lizard!  All  I  ask  is 
to  get  out  of  this,  and  then  to  get  him  by  the  throat !  " 

Surely  the  man  had  recovered  a  portion  of  his  nerve, 
for  at  the  thought  of  the  failure  of  his  partner  in  crime, 
his  face  was  suffused  with  rage,  and  his  weak,  writhing 
hands  became  twisting  talons  that  groped  for  the  throat 
of  an  imaginary  Red  Lizard. 

At  sight  of  this  demonstration,  Hampstead  leaned  back 


THE  DAY  OF  ALL  DAYS  271 

in  his  chair,  with  the  air  of  one  whose  interest  is  merely 
pathological,  observing  the  phenomena  of  a  soul  in  the 
throes  of  incurable  illness.  His  face  was  not  even  sym 
pathetic. 

"  You  have  come  to  the  wrong  place,"  he  said  briefly. 

"You  won't  help  me  out?" 

"  Not  in  your  state  of  mind  —  which  is  a  mere  cow 
ardice  in  defeat  —  mere  rage  at  the  failure  of  an  ac 
complice.  I  should  be  accessory  after  the  crime." 

"  Not  even  to  save  my  mother  ?  "  whined  the  wilted 
man. 

"  I  should  be  doing  your  mother  no  kindness  to  con 
firm  her  son  in  crime." 

Young  Burbeck  sat  silent  and  baffled,  yet  somehow 
shocked  into  vigorous  thought  by  the  notion  that  he  had 
encountered  something  hard,  a  man  with  a  substratum 
of  moral  principle  that  was  like  immovable  rock. 

For  a  moment  the  culprit's  eyes  wandered  helplessly 
about  the  room  and  then  returned  to  the  rugged  face  of 
the  minister,  with  so  much  of  gentleness  and  so  much  of 
strength  upon  it.  Looking  at  the  man  thus,  Rollie  had  a 
sudden,  envious  wish  for  his  power.  This  man  had  a 
strength  of  character  that  was  enormous  and  Gibraltar- 
like. 

'  You  can  help  me  if  you  will !  "  he  broke  out  wretch 
edly,  straining  and  twisting  his  neck  like  a  man  bat 
tling  with  suffocation. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  minister  quietly,  his  eyes  searching  to 
the  fellow's  very  soul,  "  I  can  —  if  you  will  let  me." 

"Let  you?"  and  a  hysterical  smile  framed  itself  on 
the  young  man's  face.  "  My  God,  I  will  do  anything." 

"  It's  something  you  must  be,  rather  than  do,"  ex 
plained  the  physician  to  sick  souls,  once  more  deeply  sym 
pathetic,  and  leaning  forward,  he  continued  significantly : 
41 1  want  to  help  you,  not  for  your  mother's  sake,  nor 


272  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

your  father's,  but  for  your  own  whenever  you  are  ready 
to  receive  help  upon  proper  terms.  You  have  come  here 
seeking  a  way  out.  There  is  no  way  out,  but  there  is  a 
way  up." 

The  cowering  man  shook  his  head  hopelessly.  He 
had  not  courage  enough  even  to  survey  a  moral 
height. 

For  a  moment  the  minister  studied  his  visitor  thought 
fully,  wondering  what  could  make  him  see  his  guilt  as  he 
ought  to  see  it;  then  abruptly  he  drew  close  and  began  to 
talk  in  a  low,  confidential  tone.  Almost  before  the  sur 
prised  Rollie  could  understand  what  was  taking  place, 
the  Reverend  John  Hampstead,  to  whom  he  had  come 
to  confess,  was  confessing  to  him;  this  man,  whom  he 
had  thought  so  strong,  was  telling  the  story  of  a  young 
girl's  love  for  him;  of  his  weak  infatuation  for  another 
woman,  of  the  heart-aches  that  half -unconscious  breach 
of  trust  had  occasioned  him,  and  worst  of  all,  the  pangs 
it  had  cost  the  innocent  girl  who  loved  him  and  believed 
in  his  integrity  with  all  her  impressionable  heart. 

There  was  a  moisture  in  the  minister's  eye  as  he  con 
cluded  his  story,  and  there  was  a  fresh  mist  in  Rollie's 
as  he  listened. 

But  the  clergyman  passed  on  immediately  from  this  to 
tell  modestly  how,  when  the  death  of  Langham  had  im 
posed  the  lives  of  Dick  and  Tayna  on  him  like  a  trust,  he 
had  been  true  to  it,  although  at  the  cost  of  his  great 
ambition;  but  that  afterward  this  surrender  had  brought 
him  all  the  happiness  of  his  present  life  as  pastor  of 
All  People's,  while  the  hope  of  winning  that  first  love 
back  had  been  given  to  him  again. 

"  And  so,"  Hampstead  concluded,  "  to  be  disloyal  to 
a  trust  has  come  to  seem  to  me  the  worst  of  all  crimes; 
while  to  be  true  to  one's  obligations  appears  to  me  as 
the  highest  virtue.  In  fact,  the  whole  active  part  of  my 


THE  DAY  OF  ALL  DAYS  273 

creed  could  be  summed  up  pretty  well  in  this  little  idea 
of  trust. 

"  Trust  is  almost  the  highest  thing  in  life.  It  is  the 
cement  of  civilization.  Trust  is  the  very  foundation  of 
banking.  You  believe  in  banking,  don't  you?  In  the 
principle?  The  idea  that  hundreds  of  people  trust  some 
banker  with  their  surplus  funds,  and  he  puts  those  funds 
at  the  service  of  the  community  as  a  whole  through  loan 
ing  them  to  persons  who  redeposit  them,  to  be  reloaned 
and  redeposited  again,  so  that  the  bank,  a  bundle  of 
individual  trusts  of  rich  and  poor,  becomes  one  of  the 
fulcrums  upon  which  civilization  turns  ?  " 

Burbeck  listened  rather  dazed.  "  I  never  thought  of 
the  principle,"  he  faltered  after  a  minute,  "  I  thought  of 
it  as  a  job." 

"  Well,  you  see  the  point,  don't  you  ?  It's  rather  a 
high  calling  to  be  a  banker.  Now  in  this  case  the  dead 
man  whose  fund  you  have  looted  trusted  the  bank;  the 
bank  has  trusted  you,  and  you  have  stolen  from  the 
bank.  Miss  Dounay  has  trusted  you,  and  you  have 
stolen  her  diamonds.  You  see  at  what  I  am  getting?  " 

Hampstead  paused  and  glanced  penetratingly  into  the 
face  of  Rollie,  who  had  been  a  little  swept  out  of  him 
self,  as  much  in  wonder  at  the  new  insight  into  the  life 
of  the  minister  as  at  the  convincing  clarity  of  the  lesson 
conveyed. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied  thoughtfully  and  with  an  air  of 
conviction,  "  that  I  am  not  to  think  of  myself  as  merely 
a  thief,  but  as  something  worse, —  as  a  traitor  to  many 
sacred  trusts." 

"  Exactly,"  exclaimed  the  minister  with  satisfaction 
at  the  sign  of  moral  perception  growing.  "  To  shield  a 
thief  from  exposure  is  possibly  criminal.  To  help  a  man 
repair  the  breaches  of  his  trust,  to  put  him  in  the  way  of 
never  breaking  another  trust  as  long  as  he  lives,  that  is 


274  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

the  true  work  of  the  ministry.  If  it  is  for  that  you  want 
help,  Rollie,  you  have  come  to  the  right  place." 

"  I  did  not  come  for  that,"  admitted  the  young  fel 
low,  strangely  able  to  view  himself  objectively  as  a  sadly 
dispiriting  spectacle.  "  I  came,  as  you  said,  in  cow 
ardice,  because  I  didn't  know  which  way  to  turn,  desir 
ing  only  to  find  a  way  out.  Somehow,  I  felt  myself  a 
victim.  You  make  me  see  myself  a  crook.  I  came 
here  feeling  sorry  for  myself.  You  make  me  hate  my 
self.  You  make  me  want  to  be  worthy  of  trust.  You 
give  me  hope.  I  have  a  feeling  I  never  had  before,  that 
I  am  not  much  of  a  man,  that  I  am  not  equal  to  a  man's 
job.  But  tell  me  what  I  must  do  to  repair  the  breaches 
in  my  trust,  and  let  me  see  if  I  think  I  can  do  them." 

Burbeck's  manner  had  become  calmer,  and  something 
of  the  grayness  of  despair  had  left  his  face,  but  now  at 
the  recurrence  of  all  his  perplexities,  he  presented  again 
the  picture  of  a  man  cowering  beneath  a  mountain  that 
threatened  to  fall  upon  him. 

"  First  of  all,  you  must  go  back  to  Miss  Dounay  with 
her  diamonds,"  prescribed  the  minister  seriously.  "If 
you  have  not  manhood  enough  to  face  her  with  your  con 
fession,  I  do  not  see  the  slightest  hope  for  your  char 
acter's  rehabilitation." 

"  But  the  executors !  "  exclaimed  Rollie,  with  the  sense 
of  danger  still  greater  than  his  sense  of  guilt.  "  They 
will  be  checking  me  up  at  eleven.  I've  got  to  cover  the 
shortage,  or  I'm  lost.  J.  M.  would  be  more  terrible  than 
Miss  Dounay.  It  would  not  be  vengeance  with  him. 
He'd  send  me  to  San  Quentin,  entirely  without  feeling, 
just  as  a  matter  of  cold  duty.  He'd  shake  hands  and 
tell  me  to  look  in  when  I  got  out.  That's  J.  M." 

"  Yes,  I  think  it  is,"  said  the  minister,  pausing  for  a 
moment  of  thought.  His  body  was  balanced  and  rock 
ing  gently  in  the  swivel  chair,  his  hands  were  held  before 


THE  DAY  OF  ALL  DAYS  275 

him,  the  tips  of  the  thumb  and  fingers  of  the  right  hand 
just  touching  the  tips  of  the  thumb  and  fingers  of  the 
left  hand  and  making  a  rudely  elliptical  basket  into  which 
he  was  looking  as  if  for  inspiration. 

Rollie,  waiting, —  hoping,  without  knowing  what  to 
hope, —  had  begun  to  study  Hampstead's  face  with  a 
respectful  interest  he  had  never  felt  before.  He  noticed 
the  dark  shadows  beneath  the  gray  eyes,  and  that  lines 
were  beginning  to  seam  the  brow,  while  just  now  the 
broad  shoulders  had  a  bent  look.  For  the  first  time  it 
occurred  to  him  that  Hampstead's  work  might  be  hard 
work,  and  he  began  to  feel  a  kind  of  reverence  for  a 
man  who  would  work  so  hard  for  other  people,  and  to 
reflect  that  it  was  noble  thus  to  expend  one's  energies, — 
noble  to  be  true  to  trusts  of  any  sort.  It  was  admirable. 
It  was  worthy  of  emulation.  A  sudden  envy  of  Hamp 
stead's  character  seized  him,  and  he  began,  in  the  midst 
of  his  own  distress,  to  think  how  one  proceeded  to  get 
such  a  character.  By  the  simple  process  of  being  true  to 
trusts,  the  minister  had  suggested.  But  this  seemed  rather 
hopeless  for  Rollie.  His  chance  had  gone  —  unless ! 
His  mind  halted  and  fastened  its  hope  desperately  to  this 
grave,  silent,  meditative  face. 

The  minister  was  considering  very  delicate  ques 
tions:  trying  to  decide  how  much  weight  the  slender 
moral  backbone  of  this  softling  could  carry,  asking 
whether  by  leaning  upon  the  side  of  mercy,  by  taking 
some  very  serious  responsibility  upon  himself,  he  might 
not  shelter  him  from  the  consequences  of  his  crime  while 
a  new  character  was  grown. 

But  such  questions  are  not  definitely  answerable  in 
advance,  and  it  was  neither  Hampstead's  usual  mag 
nanimity  nor  his  leaning  toward  mercy,  but  his  moral 
enthusiasm  for  the  rehabilitation  of  lost  character  that 
impelled  him  to  take  a  chance  in  his  decision. 


276  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  When  do  you  say  they  will  be  upon  your  books  ?  " 
he  asked  abruptly. 

"  Before  twelve,  sure ;  by  eleven,  probably,"  was 
Rollie's  quick,  nervous  answer. 

"  And  how  much  is  your  defalcation?  " 

"  Forty-two  hundred,"  sighed  Rollie. 

"  The  expedient  is  almost  doubtful,"  announced  the 
minister  solemnly,  and  with  evident  reluctance ;  "  and  I 
do  not  say  that  the  time  will  not  come  —  when  you  are 
stronger,  perhaps  —  when  you  must  tell  Mr.  Manton  that 
you  were  once  a  defaulter;  but  that  bridge  we  will  not 
cross  this  morning,  and  in  the  meantime,  I  will  let  you 
have  the  money  to  cover  your  shortage." 

"  Brother  Hampstead ! "  gulped  Rollie,  reaching  out 
both  hands,  while  his  soul  leaped  in  gratitude.  It  was 
also  the  first  time  he  had  ever  called  Hampstead 
"  Brother  "  except  in  derision. 

The  minister  waved  away  this  demonstration  with  a 
gesture  of  self-deprecation,  and  a  smile  that  was  almost 
as  sweet  as  a  woman's  lighted  up  his  face,  while  he  took 
from  a  drawer  of  his  desk  a  small,  flat  key,  familiar  to 
Rollie  because  he  had  seen  it  before,  and  many  others 
resembling  it. 

"  Here,"  said  Hampstead,  "  is  the  key  to  my  safe  de 
posit  box  in  the  Amalgamated  National  vault.  In  that 
box  is  eleven  hundred  dollars.  It  is  not  my  money,  but 
was  provided  by  a  friend  for  use  in  a  contingency  which 
has  not  arisen.  I  feel  at  perfect  liberty  to  use  it  for  this 
emergency.  As  you  will  remember,  there  is  already  on 
file  with  the  vault-room  custodian  my  signed  authoriza 
tion  for  you  to  visit  the  box,  because  you  have  served  as 
my  messenger  before.  You  will  be  able,  therefore,  to 
gain  unquestioned  access  to  it  the  minute  the  vaults  are 
open,  which  as  you  know  is  nine  o'clock.  Take  the  en 
velope  marked  '  Wadham  currency/  In  the  meantime  I 


THE  DAY  OF  ALL  DAYS  277 

will  go  to  a  friend  or  two,  and  within  thirty  minutes  after 
the  bank's  doors  open,  I  will  bring  you  another  envelope 
containing  thirty-one  hundred  dollars." 

Rollie  listened  as  a  condemned  man  upon  a  scaffold 
listens  to  the  reading  of  his  reprieve. 

"  How  can  I  thank  you  ?  "  he  croaked  finally,  clutch 
ing  at  the  minister's  hand. 

"  You  don't  thank  me,"  adjured  Hampstead,  towering 
and  strong,  while  he  gripped  the  pulseless  palm  of  Bur- 
beck.  "  Don't  thank  me!  Do  your  part;  that's  all." 

Rollie  clung  to  the  strong  hand  uncertainly  for  a  few 
seconds  until  he  himself  felt  stronger,  when  his  face 
seemed  to  lighten  somewhat. 

"  You  have  a  wonderful  way  with  you,  Doctor  Hamp 
stead,"  he  exclaimed.  "  You  have  put  conscience  into  me 
this  morning  —  and  courage." 

"  Both  are  important,"  smiled  the  minister. 

At  this  moment,  Rollie,  who  was  beginning  to  recover 
his  presence  of  mind,  did  one  of  those  innocent  things 
which  thereafter  played  so  important  a  part  in  the  trag 
ical  chain  of  complications  which  followed  from  this  in 
terview.  The  act  itself  was  no  more  than  to  select  from 
a  small  tray  of  rubber  bands  upon  the  study  desk,  the  only 
red  one  which  happened  to  be  there,  and  to  snap  it  with 
several" twists  about  the  neck  of  the  vault-box  key,  re 
marking  as  he  did  so: 

"  For  ready  identification.  There  are  sometimes  sev 
eral  of  these  keys  in  my  possession  at  once." 

The  minister  nodded  approvingly.  "  I  suppose,"  he 
commented,  "  other  people  make  use  of  you  as  a  mes 
senger  to  their  boxes." 

"  Half  a  dozen  of  the  women  have  that  habit,"  the 
young  man  observed. 

"  Trusted !  "  exclaimed  the  minister  impulsively,  lay 
ing  a  cordial  hand  upon  the  young  man's  shoulder. 


278  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  You  have  been  greatly  trusted.  It  is  a  rare  privilege, 
isn't  it?" 

Rollie  nodded  thoughtfully. 

"  And  these?  "  questioned  Doctor  Hampstead,  motion 
ing  to  where  the  diamond  necklace  curled,  appearing  to 
Rollie  less  like  a  serpent  now  and  more  like  a  strangler's 
knot. 

"  I'm  afraid  of  them,"  said  the  young  man  with  a 
shudder.  "  Couldn't  —  couldn't  you  take  them  back  to 
her  and  tell  the  story?" 

The  clergyman  shook  his  head  solemnly. 

"  I  cannot  confess  your  sins  for  you/'  he  averred.  "  If 
you  are  not  man  enough  for  that,  we  might  as  well  stop 
before  we  begin." 

Hampstead's  tone  was  final. 

"  You  are  right,"  admitted  Burbeck,  in  tones  of  con 
viction  ;  "  you  are  right." 

But  still  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  touch  the  dia 
monds,  and  stood  gazing  as  if  charmed  by  the  evil  spell 
they  wrought.  Sensing  this,  the  minister  took  up  from 
his  desk  a  long  envelope  which  bore  his  name  and  ad 
dress  in  the  corner,  opened  it,  lifted  the  sparkling  string 
by  one  end,  dropped  it  inside,  moistened  the  flap,  sealed 
it,  and  handed  it  to  Burbeck. 

"  There,"  he  exclaimed,  "  you  don't  even  have  to  touch 
them  again.  Go  straight  to  her  hotel." 

"  Oh,  but  I  cannot,"  exclaimed  Rollie,  apprehension 
trembling  in  his  tones.  "  I  shall  not  dare  to  leave  the 
bank  until  the  shortage  is  covered.  The  executors  might 
come  in  ahead  of  time,  and  I  must  be  there  to  stall  them 
off,  if  necessary.  But  I  might  telephone  to  Miss 
Dounay." 

"  Telephones  are  leaky  instruments,"  objected  Hamp 
stead,  with  a  shake  of  his  head. 

st  Or  send  her  a  note,"  suggested  Burbeck. 


THE  DAY  OF  ALL  DAYS  279 

"  Notes  miscarry/7  controverted  the  minister  saga 
ciously,  "  and  they  do  not  always  die  when  their  mission 
is  accomplished.  Since  you  are  taking  my  advice,  I 
would  say  summon  all  your  self-control,  contain  your 
secret  in  patience  during  the  hours  you  must  wait  until 
your  shortage  is  made  good,  and  you  can  leave  the  bank 
to  see  Miss  Dounay  in  person.  You  must  do  your  part 
entirely  alone,  for  my  lips  are  sealed." 

"  Sealed?"  questioned  Rollie,  not  quite  comprehend 
ing. 

"  Yes,  the  secret  is  your  own.  Think  of  your  con 
fession  as  made  to  God !  " 

"  You  mean  that  you  would  never  tell  on  me,  no  matter 
what  happened  ?  " 

"  Just  that.  The  liberty  is  not  mine.  I  can  only  ex 
pect  you  to  be  true  to  your  trust  as  I  am  true  as  a  minis 
ter  to  mine." 

This  was  an  idea  Rollie  could  not  grasp  readily.  It 
was  taking  away  a  prop  upon  which  he  had  meant  to 
lean. 

"  But,"  he  argued,  "  you  make  it  possible  for  me  to 
take  your  money  and  that  of  your  friends  and  keep  it, 
if  you  don't  have  some  kind  of  a  club  over  me." 

"  Exactly,"  replied  the  minister.  "  I  want  no  club 
over  you,  Rollie.  You  must  be  a  free  agent,  or  else  I 
have  not  really  trusted  you.  Your  right  action  would 
mean  nothing  if  compulsory.  You  must  be  true  to  your 
trust  from  some  inner  spiritual  motive." 

But  Rollie  was  still  groping.  "  And  if  I  should,  for 
instance,  steal  the  money  you  give  me  ?  " 

"  You  would  know  it,  and  I,  and  one  other,"  replied 
the  minister,  raising  his  eyes  devoutly. 

Rollie  swept  his  hand  across  his  face  slowly,  with  a 
gesture  of  bewilderment.  This  minister  was  taking  him 
to  higher  and  higher  ground.  He  began  to  feel  as  if 


280  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

he  had  been  led  up  to  some  transfiguring  mountain  peak 
of  moral  eminence. 

"  It  is  the  highest  appeal  which  could  be  made  to  the 
honor  of  another,"  he  breathed  in  tones  approaching 
awe. 

"  Exactly,"  declared  Hampstead  again  with  that  air 
of  finality,  "  and  if  I  should  fail  to  be  true  to  my  part 
of  the  trust,  what  has  passed  between  us  this  morning 
has  been  the  mere  compounding  of  a  felony  and  not  the 
act  of  a  priest  of  God  looking  to  the  regeneration  of  a 
soul." 

In  a  wordless  interval,  Rollie  Burbeck  pressed  the 
minister's  hand  once  more  and  departed,  his  face  still 
wearing  a  veiled  expression  as  if  he  had  not  quite  caught 
the  import  of  all  that  had  been  said. 

But  neither,  for  that  matter,  had  the  minister;  al 
though  he  was  never  surer  of  himself  than  now,  when  he 
ushered  his  guest  out  of  the  side  door  with  a  cheery, 
courage-giving  smile,  and  hastened  in  to  his  greatly  de 
layed  breakfast. 

With  a  thoughtful  air  and  a  feeling  of  intense  satis 
faction  in  his  breast,  he  unfolded  his  napkin,  broke  his 
egg,  and  sipped  his  coffee,  still  with  no  suspicion  that  this 
was  the  day  of  all  days  for  him,  or  that  he  had  just  sawed 
and  hammered  the  cross  which  might  make  his  title  clear 
to  saviourhood. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

HIS   BRIGHT   IDEA 

YOUNG  Burbeck's  desk  at  the  Amalgamated  National 
was  in  an  open  space  behind  a  marble  counter.  About 
him  in  the  same  open  space  were  desks  of  two  other 
assistant  cashiers.  Back  of  these  were  the  private  offices 
of  the  cashier,  the  president  and  the  vice-president,  as 
well  as  one  or  two  reception  rooms.  Beyond  the  marble 
counter  was  a  broad  public  aisle,  on  the  farther  side  of 
which  the  tellers  and  bookkeepers  worked,  screened  by 
the  usual  wire  and  glass.  The  safe  deposit  vaults  were 
in  the  basement  and  reached  by  a  stairway  from  the  open 
lobby  on  the  first  floor. 

Hurrying  from  the  minister's  house,  Burbeck  reached 
his  desk  at  ten  minutes  before  the  hour  of  nine.  This 
left  him  ten  minutes  of  waiting  before  he  could  get  the 
eleven  hundred  dollars  of  the  Wadham  currency;  and 
waiting  was  the  very  hardest  thing  he  could  do  under  the 
circumstances.  He  was  the  first  of  the  assistant  cashiers 
to  arrive,  but  the  cashier,  Parma,  heavy- jowled,  with 
dark  wall  eyes,  was  visible  through  the  open  door  of  his 
office,  checking  over  some  of  the  auditor's  sheets  with  a 
gold  pencil  in  his  pudgy  hand.  His  thick  shoulders  and 
broad,  unresponsive  back  somehow  threw  a  chill  of  ap 
prehension  into  Rollie.  What  brought  that  old  owl 
down  here  at  this  time  of  the  morning,  he  wondered. 

The  colored  porter,  resplendent  in  his  uniform  of  gray 
and  brass,  advanced  with  obsequious  courtesy  and  prof- 


282  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

fered  a  copy  of  the  morning  paper.  Rollie  snatched  at 
it  with  a  sense  of  relief,  but  the  relief  was  only  mo 
mentary.  There  was  the  hateful  headline  again.  It 
had  been  hours,  days,  weeks  since  he  saw  that  headline 
first,  while  standing  on  the  street  and  looking  up  for  the 
rope  that  was  to  be  swinging  over  the  cornice  of  the 
Hotel  St.  Albans.  Couldn't  they  get  something  else  for 
a  headline?  Why,  of  course  not.  The  paper  had  been 
on  the  street  but  three  hours.  That  headline  must  hold 
sway  till  the  noon  edition.  Besides,  it  was  a  good  head 
line. 

Rollie  grasped  the  paper  firmly  with  both  hands,  threw 
his  head  back,  and  pretended  to  read;  but  he  was  not 
reading.  He  was  looking  to  see  if  his  hands  trembled. 
Unmistakably  they  did.  They  trembled  so  the  paper 
rattled  as  if  it  were  having  a  chill.  But  pshaw !  There 
was  really  little  to  read  anyway,  beyond  the  headline. 
The  news  had  come  in  too  late  to  make  a  story  for  the 
morning  papers.  It  only  said  that  Miss  Dounay  had 
been  entertaining  some  friends  and  on  retiring  at  half- 
past  two  had  chanced  to  notice  that  her  diamond  neck 
lace  was  missing.  A  search  failed  to  reveal  it  in  the 
apartment.  She  at  once  notified  the  police.  That  was 
all.  No  word  as  to  who  was  present,  who  was  sus 
pected,  whether  a  guest,  or  a  servant,  or  a  burglar,  or 
whether  any  clue  had  been  discovered.  There  had  been 
no  time  for  that.  That  would  be  the  story  for  the  after 
noon  papers.  They  would  find  out  all  about  Miss 
Dounay's  movements  the  night  before,  and  all  about  her 
party,  and  who  was  present.  They  would  interview  each 
guest,  and  get  a  statement  from  him.  They  would  be 
sure  to  interview  John  Hampstead.  Rollie  had  a  sudden 
feeling  of  security  as  he  thought  of  their  investigating 
Hampstead.  It  was  amazing  what  a  rocklike  confidence 
a  man  could  feel  in  Hampstead. 


HIS  BRIGHT  IDEA  283 

But  they  would  also  interview  him  —  Rollie  Burbeck. 
Because  he  was  so  readily  accessible,  they  would  inter 
view  him  first.  .What  would  he  tell  them  ?  How  would 
he  bear  himself?  Would  his  voice  tremble  when  he  tried 
to  talk,  as  now  his  hands  trembled  when  he  tried  to  hold 
the  newspaper? 

At  this  very  moment  the  diamonds  were  in  his  inside 
coat  pocket.  Could  he  receive  the  reporters  with  his 
usual  urbanity,  sit  smiling  nonchalantly,  and  recite  the 
incidents  of  the  evening,  suggest  theories  and  clues,  ex 
press  his  righteous  indignation  at  the  crime, —  all  with 
that  envelope  and  its  contents  rustling  under  every  move 
ment  of  his  arm?  Could  he? 

To  the  young  man's  tortured  imagination,  the  neck 
lace  became  again  a  serpent.  He  could  feel  it  crawling 
there  over  his  heart,  could  hear  it  hissing  and  rattling 
as  if  about  to  strike.  Then  it  ceased  to  be  a  serpent,  and 
was  a  nest  of  birds.  He  knew  that  every  time  a  re 
porter  asked  a  question,  one  of  those  birds  would  stretch 
its  wings  and  call  "  Cuckoo." 

There!  It  said  "  Cuckoo  "  just  then.  Was  the  bank 
haunted  ?  Rollie  looked  up  frightened.  Cold  sweat  was 
on  his  brow.  Not  his  hands  alone  but  his  whole  body 
trembled.  He  was  really  in  a  very  bad  way.  Could 
a  man  have  delirium  tremens,  just  from  fright?  Rollie 
didn't  know,  but  if  a  reporter  came  in  just  then,  he  was 
sure  that  he  would  take  out  the  diamonds  and  hurl  them 
at  the  news  gatherer. 

Speaking  of  delirium  tremens,  he  wished  he  had  a  good 
stiff  highball.  He  must  slip  out  presently  long  enough 
to  get  one.  Worse  than  reporters  would  be  coming 
round,  too.  Detectives  would  come.  Chief  of  detec 
tives  Benson  might  come  in  person.  Rollie  disliked  Ben 
son  and  mistrusted  him.  Benson  went  on  the  theory  that 
it  takes  a  crook  to  catch  a  crook!  When  it  came  to  in- 


284  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

ducing  a  crook  to  talk,  he  was  a  very  handy  man  with  a 
club.  Benson  would  at  once  scour  the  pool  rooms  and 
hop  joints.  Suppose  he  got  the  Red  Lizard  in  the  drag 
net.  Suppose  he  hit  the  Red  Lizard  a  clip  or  two  with 
that  small,  ugly  billy  that  was  generally  in  Benson's 
pocket  when  he  went  to  the  sweat  room;  or  suppose  he 
kept  Red's  "  hop "  away  from  him  for  a  few  hours? 
Or  suppose  Benson  happened  to  know  in  that  uncanny 
way  of  his  that  he,  Rollie,  had  done  business  with  Spider 
Welsh?  He  might  just  walk  into  the  bank  and  search 
Rollie  on  suspicion.  And  Rollie  would  have  to  submit, 
would  have  to  seem  to  invite  him,  almost.  His  teeth 
were  chattering  at  the  thought. 

Discovery  —  disgrace  —  conviction  —  ruin  —  that  was 
the  sequence  of  the  ideas.  Stripes!  Ugh!  Just  when 
the  way  out,  "  the  way  up,"  was  opening  to  him,  too. 
Discovery,  now  that  a  moral  hope  was  gleaming,  would 
be  infinitely  more  terrible  than  an  hour  ago,  when  he  was 
only  a  rat  burrowing  from  a  terrier. 

He  tried  to  shake  himself  together.  He  must  brace 
up  and  play  the  game  with  a  cool  head,  or  he  could  not 
play  it  at  all.  One  thing  was  clear.  The  diamonds  must 
be  got  out  of  his  possession  temporarily.  But  where 
should  he  put  them  ?  In  his  desk  ?  Anywhere  about  the 
bank?  Benson  would  find  them  if  he  started  a  search, 
and  if  Benson  didn't  search,  some  one  in  the  bank  might 
stumble  upon  them  accidentally,  and  then  the  cat  would 
be  out  of  the  bag  for  fair. 

There  was  a  police  whistle  now !  The  agitated  young 
man  looked  about,  startled,  and  then  laughed  at  himself. 
It  was  not  a  police  whistle  at  all.  It  was  the  first  clear, 
bell-like  note  of  the  bank  clock,  beginning  the  stroke  of 
nine. 

With  a  sensation  of  relief  that  for  a  few  minutes  wait 
ing  was  over  and  there  was  occupation  for  mind  and 


HIS  BRIGHT  IDEA  285 

body,  Rollie  took  the  minister's  key  and  strolled  in  the 
most  casual  manner  he  could  command  down  to  the  vault 
room. 

"  Doctor  Hampstead's  box,"  he  announced,  exhibiting 
his  key.  The  vault  clerk  turned  to  his  card  index  as  a 
mere  matter  of  form,  for  he  remembered  well  enough 
Rollie's  authorization,  and  read  upon  the  card  of  the 
Reverend  John  Hampstead  his  signed  permission  for 
Rollo  Charles  Burbeck  to  do  with  his  box  "  as  I  might  or 
could  do  if  personally  present."  The  clerk  stepped  inside 
the  vault,  scanned  the  numbers  and  tiers,  and  thrust  his 
master-key  into  the  proper  lock.  Rollie  slipped  the 
minister's  key  into  its  own  place,  turned  it,  and  the  door 
flew  open.  The  vault  clerk  returned  to  his  stand  outside 
the  door.  Rollie  took  the  box  and  walked  into  one  of 
the  private  rooms  provided  for  the  safe  deposit  patrons. 
In  a  moment  he  was  ripping  open  the  envelope  marked 
"  Wadham  Currency  ",  which  he  found  exactly  as  the 
minister  had  described  it. 

At  sight  and  feeling  of  the  money  in  his  fingers,  a 
great  wave  of  hope  surged  over  Rollie.  It  was  a  solid 
assurance  of  escape.  With  this  assurance,  there  came 
to  the  young  man  a  sharp,  definite  impulse  to  begin  at 
once  the  work  of  character  building.  As  an  initial  step, 
he  wrote  upon  one  of  his  personal  cards:  "I.  O.  U. 
$1,100,"  and  signed  it,  not  with  his  initials,  but  boldly 
in  vigorous  chirography,  to  express  the  stoutness  of  his 
purpose,  with  the  whole  of  his  name,  "  Rollo  Charles 
Burbeck."  When  putting  this  card  carefully  back  in  the 
envelope  from  which  he  had  extracted  the  currency,  and 
placing  the  envelope  on  the  top  of  the  papers  in  the  box, 
the  young  man  experienced  a  fine  glow  of  satisfaction. 
He  had  done  a  good  and  honorable  act  in  this  bold  as 
sumption  of  his  debt  and  in  thus  leaving  the  written 
record  there  behind  him. 


286  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

But  when  Rollie  took  up  the  currency  from  the  table 
and  slipped  the  long,  thin  package  into  his  inside  pocket, 
his  fingers  came  in  contact  with  that  other  envelope,  the 
presence  of  which,  under  the  strain  of  what  he  must  go 
through  this  morning,  threatened  to  break  down  his  nerve 
completely. 

With  the  preacher's  box  lying  there  open  before  him, 
came  a  sudden  inspiration.  What  safer  place  for  the 
Dounay  jewels  than  in  it?  Doctor  Hampstead's  char 
acter  put  him  absolutely  above  suspicion.  He  was  the 
one  guest  at  the  supper  before  whose  door  no  process 
of  elimination  would  ever  halt  to  point  the  finger  of  sus 
picion.  His  box,  at  the  moment,  was  the  safest  place  in 
the  world  for  the  Dounay  diamonds. 

Rollie  was  all  alone  in  the  closed  room.  No  glance 
could  possibly  rest  on  him;  yet,  as  furtively  as  if  a  thou 
sand  eyes  were  peering,  he  slipped  the  envelope  contain 
ing  the  diamonds  from  his  pocket  into  the  box  and  heaved 
a  sigh  of  relief  when  he  saw  the  lid  cover  the  package 
from  his  sight.  Returning  to  the  vault  room,  he  locked 
the  box  in  its  chamber  and  went  upstairs  to  his  desk  in 
quite  his  usual  debonair  manner. 

With  a  new  feeling  of  confidence  which  made  him  bold 
and  precise  in  all  his  movements,  Rollie  laid  the  safe 
deposit  key,  with  its  innocent  little  red  rubber  band  about 
it,  exactly  in  the  center  of  the  blotter  upon  his  desk,  where 
it  might  be  every  moment  under  his  eye.  Then,  in  the 
most  casual  way  in  the  world,  he  pinned  a  penciled  note 
to  the  stack  of  bills  representing  the  "  Wadham  cur 
rency  "  and  sent  it  by  one  of  the  bank  messengers  across 
the  wide  aisle  to  a  receiving  teller's  cage.  When  it  ar 
rived,  the  gap  in  his  financial  fences  had  narrowed  to 
thirty-one  hundred  dollars.  This  lessening  of  the  breach 
increased  his  self-control  and  strengthened  his  resolution. 
He  had  only  to  wait  now  until  the  minister  appeared  with 


HIS  BRIGHT  IDEA  287 

the  additional  currency,  and  then  at  the  first  opportunity 
he  would  slip  down  to  the  vault,  get  the  diamonds,  and 
go  straight  to  Miss  Doucay. 

And  in  the  meantime  his  premonition  that  reporters 
would  lean  heavily  upon  him  for  information  about  the 
actress's  supper  party  proved  correct.  When  he  talked 
to  these  reporters,  Rollie  noticed  that  it  gave  him  a  fresh 
sense  of  security  to  let  his  eye  turn  occasionally  to  where 
the  little  flat  key  with  the  red  band  about  it  lay  upon  his 
desk,  lay,  and  almost  laughed.  It  was  really  such  a 
good  joke  to  think  where  the  diamonds  were. 

What  made  this  joke  better  was  that  each  reporter 
shrewdly  inquired  whether  Rollie  thought  the  diamonds 
had  actually  been  stolen,  or  whether  this  might  not  be 
the  familiar  device  of  dramatic  press  agents.  Begging 
in  each  instance  that  he  be  not  quoted,  Rollie  admitted 
that  of  course  the  whole  affair  might  be  no  more  than  the 
latter. 

Yet  after  the  reporters  had  gone,  Rollie  wished  he  had 
not  done  this.  It  was  clever,  but  it  was  not  just  to  the 
woman  to  whom  he  was  going  to  make  his  first  exhibition 
of  new  character  by  returning  her  jewels  and  making  a 
plea  for  mercy.  That  was  not  going  to  be  an  easy  job 
- — that  confession?  Besides,  everything  depended  on 
whether  she  would  grant  his  plea  or  not.  Ruin  stared 
again  at  this  angle;  for  Miss  Dounay  might  hand  him 
over  to  Benson.  Once  more  he  had  that  distasteful 
vision  of  a  chalky  head  and  a  suit  of  stripes.  The 
thought  produced  a  physical  sensation  as  if  his  whole 
body  were  being  stung  by  nettles. 

But  here  came  a  big  man  down  the  aisle,  his  features 
expressing  grave  consideration,  and  his  gray  eyes 
twinkling  with  evident  satisfaction.  It  was  Doctor 
Hampstead.  Courage  and  increase  of  confidence  seemed 
to  come  into  the  office  with  the  minister,  and  more  was 


288  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

imparted  by  his  cordial  hand-clasp,  as  he  leaned  close  and 
asked  in  a  low  voice: 

"  You  got  the  Wadham  currency?  " 

"  Yes,"  Rollie  answered  eagerly  and  in  an  excited 
whisper  told  how  he  had  laid  the  foundation  stone  of  his 
new  character  by  his  I.  O.  U.  left  in  the  place  of  the 
currency. 

"  That  is  good,"  agreed  the  minister,  his  face  beaming. 
"The  right  start,  my  boy,  exactly." 

Then,  with  a  replica  of  that  smile,  sweet  as  a  woman's, 
with  which  he  had  two  hours  before  passed  over  his 
vault  key  to  Rollie,  he  now  placed  in  his  hands  an  en 
velope  like  that  which  had  contained  the  Wadham  cur 
rency,  only  thicker.  The  young  man  seized  it  grate 
fully,  but  with  fingers  trembling  so  he  could  hardly  get 
behind  the  flap  of  the  envelope. 

"  It  is  there/'  said  the  minister,  a  little  gurgle  of  emo 
tion  in  his  own  throat. 

"  It  is  here,"  mumbled  Rollie  woodenly,  a  surge  of 
relief  and  gratitude  rising  so  high  in  his  breast  that  it 
felt  like  a  tense  hard  pain,  and  for  a  moment  stifled  the 
power  of  speech  so  that  for  want  of  words  he  reached 
out  and  touched  the  hand  of  the  minister  caressingly 
with  his  clammy  fingers. 

Hampstead,  happier,  if  possible,  than  Rollie,  under 
stood  his  emotion. 

"  It's  all  right,"  he  whispered.  "  Courage,  boy,  cour 
age  !  "  At  the  same  time  he  laid  a  hand  upon  the  young 
man's  arm,  with  a  pressure  almost  of  affection.  With  the 
word  and  touch  came  clarity  both  of  thought  and  feeling. 

"  Will  you  excuse  me  three  or  four  minutes,  Brother 
Hampstead?  "  Rollie  inquired,  the  sudden  leap  of  joy  in 
his  heart  that  the  embezzlement  was  now  to  be  legitimately 
wiped  out  so  great  that  he  could  not  this  time  stop  to 
send  the  money  across  by  a  messenger. 


HIS  BRIGHT  IDEA  289 

The  minister  smiled  understandingly,  and  Rollie 
stepped  out  of  the  little  gate  and  across  to  the  teller's 
window. 

When  he  returned,  old  J.  M.  himself  had  come  out  of 
his  office  and  was  chatting  with  the  minister.  There  was 
nothing  unusual  about  this,  since  wherever  Hampstead 
went  persons  of  every  sort  were  anxious  to  get  a  word 
with  him.  Presently  Parma  too  joined  the  group  at 
Rollie' s  desk.  Of  course  the  topic  of  conversation  was 
Miss  Dounay  and  her  diamonds,  for  both  the  president 
and  the  cashier  had  learned  that  the  minister  and  their 
own  social  ambassador  were  present  at  the  supper,  which 
every  hour  became  more  famous.  In  the  midst  of  this 
conversation,  a  telephone  call  for  Mr.  Manton  was 
switched  to  Rollie's  desk. 

"Yes,"  said  the  president,  talking  into  the  'phone. 
"(We  will  send  a  man  over  to  represent  us.  Are  you 
ready  now?  " 

The  bank  president  hung  up  the  telephone  and  turned 
to  Rollie.  "  Step  right  over  to  the  Central  Trust,  Bur- 
beck,  and  see  us  through  on  those  transfers,  will  you? 
They  are  waiting  now." 

There  was  nothing  for  Rollie  to  do  but  to  go  im 
mediately,  much  as  he  desired  to  whisper  one  more  word 
of  gratitude  to  the  minister,  and  to  receive  the  addi 
tional  installment  of  moral  strength  which  he  felt  sure 
would  follow  from  a  few  quiet  minutes  with  this  man 
on  whom  his  soul  had  begun  to  lean  so  heavily. 

"  Certainly,  Mr.  Manton,"  he  answered,  and  then  as 
he  reached  for  his  hat,  he  turned  to  the  minister,  saying : 
"  Shall  I  find  you  here  when  I  return  ? " 

"  That  depends  on  how  long  before  you  return," 
laughed  the  minister,  but  the  blandness  of  his  expression 
indicated  that  he  was  in  no  hurry,  and  Rollie  went  out 
expecting  to  see  him  again  in  a  few  minutes. 


290  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

But  the  matter  of  the  transfers  was  not  so  easily  dis 
patched.  Over  one  detail  and  another  the  young  man 
was  held  for  nearly  forty  minutes.  The  delays,  too,  were 
of  that  vexatious  sort  which  detained  him  without  em 
ploying  him;  so  that  most  of  the  irritating  interval  could 
be  and  was  devoted  to  a  consideration  of  his  own  very 
private  and  very  pressing  affairs. 

Giving  up  hope  of  finding  the  minister  in  the  bank  upon 
his  return,  he  addressed  both  his  thoughts  and  his  fears 
to  the  subject  of  Miss  Dounay  and  her  diamonds.  The 
prospective  interview  with  this  passionate,  self-willed, 
and  no  doubt  wildly  excited  woman  loomed  before  him 
oppressively,  and  the  nearer  it  drew,  the  more  ominous  it 
seemed.  A  man  going  unarmed  to  return  a  stolen  cub 
to  a  tigress  in  a  jungle  lair  would  be  going  upon  a  mission 
of  peace  and  safety  compared  to  his.  He  feared  that  in 
her  passionate  vehemence  she  would  never  permit  him  to 
get  the  full  truth  before  her.  How  was  he  to  turn  aside 
the  impact  of  her  sudden  burst  of  rage?  She  would  as 
sault  him  —  tear  him !  If  that  curious  Morocco  dagger 
he  had  seen  some  of  the  guests  fumbling  with  last  night 
were  at  hand,  she  might  even  kill  him. 

The  idea  occurred  to  him  that  he  had  best  lie  to  her, 
or  at  least  begin  by  lying  to  her;  that  he  might  play  the 
role  of  restorer  of  her  diamonds,  and  put  her  under  a 
debt  of  gratitude,  explaining  that  the  thief  had  brought 
them  to  him  to  borrow  money  on  them ;  then,  in  the  softer 
mood  that  would  come  through  joy  over  their  prospective 
recovery,  he  might  elaborate  the  story,  touch  her  sym 
pathies,  and  make  his  full  confession.  She  might  even 
be  happy  enough  over  their  recovery  to  cease  the  hunt  for 
the  criminal,  and  thus  make  confession  unnecessary. 
That  in  itself  would  be  a  great  relief. 

Yet  the  common  sense,  if  not  the  moral  sense,  of  the 
young  man  rejected  a  proposal  to  lay  the  bricks  of  new- 


HIS  BRIGHT  IDEA  291 

found  honesty  in  the  mortar  of  a  lie.  If  he  were  true 
to  the  trust  which  Hampstead  had  reposed  in  him,  he 
would  walk  straight  into  Miss  Dounay's  apartments  and 
say,  "  Here  are  your  diamonds.  I  am  the  thief.  I  throw 
myself  upon  your  mercy !  "  This  was  what  he  resolved 
to  do. 

Reentering  the  bank,  young  Burbeck  walked  first  to 
the  open  door  of  Mr.  Manton's  office.  That  gentleman 
was  engaged  with  a  caller,  but  the  shadow  at  the  door 
caused  his  eye  to  rove  in  that  direction.  Rollie  waved 
his  hand;  J.  M.  nodded.  The  transfers  had  been  accom 
plished;  the  president  had  taken  note  of  that  fact,  and 
the  assistant  cashier's  mission  was  discharged. 

Rollie  went  immediately  to  his  desk.  There  was  a 
litter  of  papers  representing  matters  of  greater  or  less 
importance  which  had  required  attention  during  the  in 
terval  of  his  absence  from  the  office.  He  sifted  them 
quickly.  Some  received  his  penciled  O.  K.  and  went 
into  a  basket  for  the  messenger;  two  or  three  took  him 
on  errands  to  other  desks  about,  or  to  the  windows  op 
posite;  the  rest  went  into  a  drawer.  He  had  not  re 
moved  his  hat  from  his  head,  for  he  proposed  to  go 
immediately  to  Miss  Dounay  before  the  remnants  of  his 
fast  oozing  resolution  could  entirely  trickle  away. 

But  when  he  turned  to  pick  up  the  vault  key  which  his 
eye  had  seen  so  many  times  this  morning,  it  was  not  at 
hand.  He  removed  everything  from  the  desk,  he 
searched  every  nook  and  cranny  of  it.  He  took  up  the 
waste-basket,  dumped  the  contents  upon  his  desk,  and 
examined  every  scrap  and  fold  of  envelope  or  paper. 
He  even  got  down  upon  his  knees  and  made  sure  the  key 
was  not  upon  the  carpet,  going  so  far  as  to  move  the 
desk.  The  key  had  disappeared.  He  searched  his  own 
pockets,  realizing  that  when  he  left  the  bank  that  was 
where  the  key  should  have  been  placed. 


292  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

In  the  excitement  of  the  moment  when  Hampstead 
had  brought  in  the  money  that  saved  him  from  being  a 
defaulter,  and  in  the  disconcerting  presence  of  J.  M. 
and  Parma,  when  he  wanted  to  be  alone  with  his  bene 
factor,  and  especially  with  the  more  disconcerting  in 
struction  to  go  out  and  look  after  the  transfers,  he  had, 
for  the  time  being,  forgotten  the  key.  Now  it  was  not 
to  be  found. 

Rollie  stood  nonplussed  first,  and  then  aghast.  His 
guilty  conscience  instantly  suggested  that  some  one  had 
seen  or  suspected  his  visit  to  the  vault  and  what  had  oc 
curred  there.  This  idea  brought  a  rush  of  blood  to  the 
head.  He  was  dizzy  and  had  almost  an  attack  of  vertigo. 
Yet  with  a  few  clearing  minutes  of  thought,  the  explana 
tion  leaped  plainly  into  mind.  Doctor  Hampstead  had 
taken  the  key.  In  the  interval  while  Rollie  was  at  the 
teller's  window,  he  must  have  seen  it  lying  there  upon 
the  desk,  recognized  it  by  the  red  rubber  band,  and  hav 
ing  been  assured  that  the  key  had  served  its  purpose,  had 
done  the  perfectly  natural  thing  of  dropping  it  in  his 
pocket,  and  thinking  no  more  of  it. 

Where  was  the  minister  now  ?  Until  Rollie  could  find 
him  and  get  the  key,  he  could  make  no  confession  to 
Miss  Dounay. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

UNEXPECTEDLY    EASY 

FOLLOWING  his  instincts  rather  than  any  rule  of  sense, 
Rollie  hurried  out  upon  the  street,  posted  himself  upon 
a  conspicuous  corner,  and  for  several  minutes  indulged 
the  wildly  improbable  hope  that  he  might  spy  the  minister 
passing  in  the  throng.  When  a  little  reflection  had  con 
vinced  him  that  this  was  time  wasted,  he  made  a  hasty 
inventory  of  near-by  places  where  his  benefactor  might 
have  gone,  and  even  went  so  far  as  to  hurriedly  visit  two 
of  them,  threading  the  tables  of  the  Forum  Cafe,  where 
sometimes  Hampstead  ate  his  luncheon,  and  scanning  the 
chairs  in  the  St.  Albans  barber  shop,  where  from  time  to 
time  the  dominie's  tawny  fleece  was  shorn. 

But  by  this  time  a  new  probability  forced  itself  into  the 
distracted  young  man's  consciousness.  This  was  that 
the  minister  had  gone  to  pay  his  sympathetic  respects  to 
Miss  Dounay  and  condole  with  her  over  her  loss.  Rollie 
was  so  near  the  Dounay  apartment  that  to  go  upstairs 
and  inquire  if  the  minister  were  there  would  have  been 
easy,  but  the  peculiar  circumstances  made  it  difficult. 
Indeed  only  to  recall  how  near  he  was  to  that  fearsome 
lair  of  the  tigress  threw  him  into  cold  shivers  and  made 
him  fly  to  the  safer  vantage  ground  of  the  telephone  upon 
his  own  desk  at  the  bank.  But  even  merely  to  inquire 
for  the  Reverend  John  Hampstead  from  there  was  hard. 
In  his  nervous  state,  depleted  by  gloomy  forebodings  and 
now  unfortified  by  the  possession  of  the  diamonds,  Rollie 
felt  utterly  unequal  to  even  a  long-distance  contact  with 
that  high-powered  personality.  All  the  morning  he  had 


294  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

been  in  terror  lest  she  herself  should  call  him  up.  All 
the  morning  he  had  known  that  in  his  character  as  an 
interested  friend  he  should  have  telephoned  to  her. 
Now,  the  moment  she  recognized  his  voice,  he  would  be 
taxed  with  this  breach!  What  was  he  to  say?  Why, 
that  he  had  not  telephoned  because  he  was  intending  to 
call  in  at  the  first  moment  he  could  get  away  from  the 
bank,  and  that  he  would  be  up  very  soon  now.  She 
would  be  sarcastic,  but  the  explanation  would  positively 
have  to  do.  Besides,  he  had  to  locate  the  minister!  and 
so,  struggling  to  command  a  tone  of  indifference,  he 
gave  the  St.  Albans  number. 

Of  course  Julie  or  the  secretary  would  answer,  any 
way.  But  evidently  Miss  Dounay,  in  her  highly  aroused 
mental  state,  was  keeping  an  ear  upon  the  telephone  bell, 
for  it  was  her  own  animated  note  that  rasped  at  him 
through  the  instrument.  It  appeared,  mercifully,  that 
she  did  not  recognize  his  voice, —  a  fact  which  at  first 
relieved  him,  but  on  later  reflection,  at  the  conclusion  of 
the  incident,  shook  his  remaining  self-confidence  still  fur 
ther  to  pieces,  for  it  showed  how  completely  out  of  hand 
he  had  allowed  himself  to  get. 

When,  moreover,  Rollie  launched  his  timid  inquiry  if 
the  Reverend  John  Hampstead  was  there,  he  got  a  nega 
tive  so  sharp  that  the  receiver  seemed  to  bite  his  ear.  He 
broke  the  connection  hastily  and  sat  eyeing  the  telephone 
apprehensively,  expecting  the  mouthpiece  to  open  like 
a  solemn  eye,  scan  him  inquiringly,  and  report  to  Miss 
Dounay.  When  it  did  not,  he  shrugged  his  shoulders 
and  elongated  his  neck  to  get  rid  of  that  noose-like  feel 
ing  which  had  just  come  upon  him  from  nowhere.  He 
had  not  killed  anybody.  What  'was  the  noose  for,  then  ? 
But  this  reflection  got  a  most  disagreeable  answer :  "  It 
would  kill  your  mother  to  know  you  are  an  embezzler 
and  a  thief.  You  would  then  be  her  murderer."  Again 


UNEXPECTEDLY  EASY  295 

he  shrugged  himself  free  of  the  distasteful  sensation. 
"  Buck  up,  Burbeck,"  he  commanded  himself,  "  or  you 
are  done  for."  Once  more  he  grabbed  the  telephone, 
and  this  time  more  determinedly,  for  in  the  midst  of  his 
misery  one  really  first-class  inspiration  had  come  to  him : 
this  was  to  communicate  with  the  county  jail.  The 
minister  was  really  much  more  likely  to  have  friends  in 
the  county  jail  than  in  the  St.  Albans;  and  it  was  a  safe 
wager  that  he  went  there  more  frequently.  Rollie  knew 
the  jailer  well. 

"Hello  — Sam,"  he  called.  "This  is  Rollie.  Has 
Doctor  Hampstead  been  there  this  morning?  " 

"  Yeh!" 

"There  now?" 

"  Nope." 

"  Know  where  he  went  ?  " 

Evidently  Sam  turned  to  some  one  else  in  the  room  for 
information.  Rollie  heard  a  voice  answering  him  and 
caught  the  words  "  San  Francisco  "  and  "  Red  Lizard." 

"Did  you  get  that?"  called  Sam  into  the  'phone. 
"  He's  gone  to  San  Francisco." 

"Yes, —  but  what's  that  got  to  do  with  the  Red 
Lizard?" 

"  He  came  down  to  see  the  Red  Lizard." 

"  The  Red  Lizard !  "  Rollie  could  not  restrain  a  gasp, 
and  then  wondered  if  gasps  are  transmitted  over  the  tele 
phone  —  but  went  on  to  ask :  "  Is  the  Red  Lizard  in  ?  " 

"Yeh!" 

"What  for?" 

Rollie  was  clinging  to  the  telephone  now  like  a  drown 
ing  man  to  a  rope's  end. 

"  He  got  in  some  kind  of  a  row  with  a  service  elevator 
man  at  the  St.  Albans  last  night  and  landed  on  him  with 
the  brass  knucks.  This  morning  the  judge  gave  him 
three  months  in  the  county." 


296  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

Rollie  clenched  his  teeth,  and  his  shoulders  rocked  for 
a  moment.  So  that  was  what  happened  to  the  Red 
Lizard!  What  a  long  time  ago  last  night  was!  How 
many  things  had  happened !  Last  night  he  was  a  crook 
and  a  defaulter.  To-day  he  was  an  honest  man,  and  his 
accounts  would  bear  the  scrutiny  of  an  X-ray.  Now  if 
only  those  diamonds  — 

But  Sam  had  gone  right  on  talking. 

"  We  think  Doctor  Hampstead  went  to  San  Francisco 
on  some  sort  of  errand  for  the  Lizard  —  Red's  got  a 
woman  sick  over  there  or  something.  But,  say,  the  par 
son  telephoned  his  house  before  he  left  here,  and  they  can 
tell  you  sure." 

"All  right,  thanks." 

"So  long,  Rollie!" 

Gone  to  San  Francisco !  Worse  and  worse.  Rollie 
huddled  in  his  chair.  But  there  was  still  a  grain  of  hope. 
Sam  might  be  mistaken,  or  the  trip  might  be  a  short  one, 
or  the  minister  might  have  left  a  telephone  number  that 
would  reach  him. 

But  the  voice  of  Rose  Langham  dashed  these  hopes 
one  by  one.  Her  brother  had  gone  to  San  Francisco  on 
an  uncertain  quest;  he  would  not  be  back  until  very  late 
at  night,  and  he  had  no  idea  himself  where  in  the  city  his 
search  would  lead  him. 

For  the  second  time  that  day  Rollie  found  himself  in 
a  state  bordering  on  physical  collapse.  The  very  stars 
were  fighting  against  him.  After  the  strain  of  a  year 
in  which  the  fear  of  detection,  however  masked,  had  al 
ways  been  present,  his  nerves  were  in  none  too  good  con 
dition,  anyway.  The  events  of  the  last  twenty-four 
hours  had  racked  them  to  the  limit  of  self-control.  And 
yet,  when  safely  past  the  danger  of  discovery  of  his 
defalcation,  the  growing  sense  of  the  enormity  of  the 
crime  of  theft  had  brought  him  to  a  point  where  in  sheer 


UNEXPECTEDLY  EASY  297 

self-defense  he  felt  he  must  seize  the  jewels  and  literally 
fling  them  at  their  owner.  Now,  goaded,  tricked,  tan 
talized,  defeated  —  everything  was  in  a  conspiracy 
against  him!  It  was  enough  to  drive  a  man  insane. 
Burbeck  felt  himself  very  near  the  maniacal  point. 
Again  he  was  seeing  things.  One  moment  the  street  out 
side  was  full  of  patrol  wagons,  all  ringing  their  gongs  at 
once,  while  platoons  of  police  were  marching  and  sur 
rounding  the  bank.  Another  moment  he  had  decided  to 
anticipate  the  police  by  rushing  out  to  the  corner  by  the 
plaza,  tossing  his  hat  high  in  the  air,  and  shouting  and 
shrieking  until  a  crowd  had  gathered,  when  he  would 
exhibit  the  diamonds  and  proclaim  himself  the  thief. 

But  he  was  spared  the  possibility  of  this  insane  freak 
by  the  fact  that  he  could  not  exhibit  the  diamonds.  They 
were  in  the  vault.  Damn  the  vault !  To  hell  with  them ! 
To  hell  with  everything!  To  hell  with  himself!  That 
was  where  he  was  going! 

Suddenly  he  looked  up,  trembling.  Mercer,  the  as 
sistant  cashier  whose  desk  was  next  to  his  own,  must 
have  overheard  him.  But  no,  Mercer  was  calmly  writ 
ing.  He  had  heard  nothing,  because  nothing  had  been 
spoken.  Rollie  had  been  thinking  in  shouts,  not  speak 
ing.  And  yet  he  looked  about  him  wonderingly,  like  a 
man  coming  out  of  a  temporary  aberration. 

"  I  will  be  shouting  it  next/'  he  said  to  himself.  "  I 
am  getting  dotty;  I'll  burst  if  I  have  to  hold  this  much 
longer.  I'll  burst  and  give  the  whole  thing  away." 

His  hat  had  been  pushed  back  from  his  brow ;  he  drew 
it  forward  and  down  until  it  shaded  his  face,  and  then 
with  his  jaws  set  in  the  most  determined  mood  he  could 
muster,  he  walked  out  of  the  bank  and  piloted  his  steps, 
with  knees  that  were  sometimes  stiff  and  sometimes  tot 
tering,  in  the  direction  of  the  Hotel  St.  Albans. 

Without  waiting  to  be  announced,  he  went  up  and 


298  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

knocked  at  the  door  of  Miss  Dounay's  apartment.  It 
was  opened  a  mere  crack  to  reveal  a  nose  and  a  bit  of 
an  eyebrow.  This  facial  fragment  belonged  to  Julie, 
and  with  it  she  managed  to  convey  an  expression  at  once 
forbidding  and  inquisitorial. 

"  Oh,  la  la !  "  she  exclaimed,  after  her  survey.  "  It  is 
the  handsome  man.  Come  in,"  and  the  door  swung  wide. 
"  Madame  will  be  glad  to  see  you.  Perhaps  you  bring 
the  diamonds." 

Julie  said  all  this  in  her  slight  but  charming  accent 
with  an  attempt  at  good-humored  vivacity,  but  that  last 
was  a  very  embarrassing  remark  to  a  caller  in  young 
Mr.  Burbeck's  delicate  position.  It  caused  one  of  his 
knees  to  knock  sharply  against  the  other  as  he  manceu- 
vered  to  a  position  where  he  could  lean  against  a  heavy 
William-and-Mary  chair,  and  thus  remain  standing  until 
Miss  Dounay  should  enter  the  room;  since  to  sit  down 
and  then  rise  again  suddenly  was  a  feat  that  promised 
to  be  entirely  beyond  him. 

Moreover,  light  as  had  been  Julie's  manner,  Rollie 
saw  that  her  appearance  belied  it.  Her  eyes  were  red, 
her  sharp  little  nose  was  also  highly  colored,  and  in  her 
hand  was  a  tight  ball  of  a  handkerchief  that  had  been 
wetted  to  such  compactness  by  tears. 

Mercifully  Miss  Dounay  did  not  leave  time  for  the 
young  man's  apprehensions  to  increase.  She  entered  al 
most  as  Julie  disappeared,  wearing  something  black  and 
oddly  cut,  a  baggy  thing,  like  a  gown  he  remembered 
once  seeing  upon  a  sculptress  when  at  work  in  her  studio. 
It  was  the  nearest  to  an  unbecoming  garb  that  he  had 
ever  known  Marien  to  wear,  and  yet  unbecoming  was 
hardly  the  word.  It  did  become  her  mood,  which  was 
somber.  Her  face  was  pale,  and  there  were  shadows 
beneath  her  eyes.  She  looked  subdued,  defeated  even; 
but  by  no  means  broken.  There  were  hard  lines  about 


UNEXPECTEDLY  EASY  299 

her  mouth,  lines  which  Rollie  had  never  seen  there  before. 
She  wore  a  sullen  expression,  and  a  passion  that  was 
volcanic  appeared  to  smoulder  in  her  eyes.  She  greeted 
him  rather  perfunctorily,  as  if  her  mind  had  been  brood 
ing  and,  after  bidding  him  be  seated  and  sinking  herself 
upon  a  couch,  cushion-piled  as  usual,  shrouded  herself 
again  in  a  state  of  aloofness  which  reminded  him  of  the 
weather  when  a  storm  is  brooding. 

Rollie  had  expected  her  to  be  raging  like  a  wild  woman, 
—  alternately  hurling  anathemas  at  the  thief  for  having 
stolen  her  gems  and  heaping  denunciations  upon  the  po 
lice  because  they  had  not  already  captured  the  criminal 
and  recovered  the  necklace. 

Her  apparent  indifference  to  that  subject  only  empha 
sized  to  Rollie  what  he  had  before  observed, —  that  it 
was  impossible  ever  to  forecast  the  mind  of  this  woman 
upon  any  subject,  or  under  any  circumstances.  At  the 
same  time,  the  young  man  was  extremely  grateful  for 
this  abstraction,  because  it  made  what  he  had  to  do  vastly 
easier. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  ventured  huskily,  "  you  are  worried  to 
death  about  your  diamonds." 

The  sentence  drew  one  lightning  flash  from  her  eyes, 
and  that  was  all. 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  have  hardly  thought  of  them," 
she  snapped. 

Rollie  sat  with  open  mouth,  totally  unable  to  compre 
hend,  staring  until  his  stare  annoyed  her. 

"  I  say  I  have  hardly  thought  of  them,"  she  repeated, 
with  an  asperity  entirely  sufficient  to  recall  the  young 
man  from  his  amazement  at  her  manner  to  the  real  object 
of  his  visit. 

"  But  wouldn't  you  like  to  get  your  diamonds  back  ?  " 
he  asked  perspiringly. 

"  Of  course,  silly!"  the  actress  replied,  not  bothering 


300  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

to  conceal  the  fact  that  she  regarded  Burbeck  as  a  child, 
sometimes  useful  and  sometimes  a  nuisance.  Appar 
ently,  she  had  hailed  his  advent  because  her  ill  humor 
required  a  fresh  butt,  Julie's  face  having  indicated 
clearly  that  she  had  been  made  to  suffer  to  the  breaking 
point. 

But  Rollie  was  in  no  position  to  insist  upon  niceties  of 
speech  or  manner.  He  had  a  trouble  compared  to  which 
all  other  troubles  of  which  he  had  ever  conceived  were 
nothing  at  all.  He  was  haunted  by  a  terrible  fear,  and 
to  escape  its  torture  he  plumped  full  in  the  face  of  it  by 
blurting : 

"  I  have  come  to  tell  you  that  you  are  going  to  get 
your  diamonds  back." 

If  Marien's  demeanor  were  a  pose,  it  must  have 
proved  that  she  really  was  what  her  press  agents  claimed, 
—  the  greatest  actress  on  the  English  speaking  stage. 
She  did  not  start,  or  speak.  For  a  few  seconds  not  even 
the  direction  of  her  glance  was  changed.  Then  her  face 
did  shift  sufficiently  for  the  black  piercing  eyes  to  stab 
straight  into  Rollie's,  while  her  brows  were  lifted  in 
quiringly.  The  glance  said,  "  Well,  go  on !  " 

The  young  man  obeyed  desperately :  "  I  am  an  am 
bassador  for  the — " 

Still  Miss  Dounay  did  not  speak;  she  did  not  move 
nor  change  an  expression  even;  and  yet  Rollie  felt  him 
self  interrupted.  He  could  not  tell  how  this  was  done, 
but  he  was  sure  that  this  woman  had  detected  him  in  the 
first  note  of  insincerity  and  by  a  thought- wave  had  em 
phatically  said,  "  Don't  lie  to  me !  " 

All  at  once,  too,  he  realized  that  this  motionless,  mar 
ble-lipped  creature  sitting  there  before  him  was  more 
implacable,  more  potential  for  evil  than  the  raging  tigress 
he  had  expected  to  confront.  He  felt  somehow  that  she 
was  not  a  woman,  but  a  super-devil  into  whose  clutches 


UNEXPECTEDLY  EASY  301 

he  was  being  drawn.  He  even  had  a  sense  that  he  was 
not  going  to  be  allowed  any  increased  issue  of  moral 
stock  on  the  ground  of  telling  this  woman  the  truth.  He 
wras  going  to  tell  her  the  truth  because  he  had  to,  because 
she  hypnotized  it  out  of  him. 

"  I  say,"  he  began,  and  stopped  to  wet  his  lips,  but 
found  his  tongue  so  furred  that  it  could  not  function  in 
that  behalf.  "  I  say,"  he  went  on  again,  croaking 
hoarsely,  "  that  I  am  the  thief." 

"You?     The  banker?" 

Rollie  fell  to  wondering  how  blue  vitriol  bites.  Cer 
tainly  it  could  not  be  more  biting  than  the  sarcasm  in 
look  and  tone  with  which  the  woman  had  asked  this 
question. 

"  Yes,  I  — " 

The  young  man  was  going  to  prepare  the  soil  for 
throwing  himself  upon  her  mercy  —  this  woman  whom 
he  was  now  positive  knew  no  such  thing  as  mercy  —  by 
telling  her  about  his  defalcation;  but  in  the  wooden  state 
of  his  mind,  one  quivering  gleam  of  intelligence  sug 
gested  that  it  was  quite  unnecessary  to  tell  her  anything 
about  his  defalcation;  that  it  might  give  her  an  added 
set  of  pincers  for  the  torture  she  might  choose  to  inflict. 

"  Yes,  I  stole  them,"  he  affirmed  doggedly.  "  And  I 
am  going  to  bring  them  back." 

"  Going  to?"  she  asked,  again  making  the  fine  shade 
of  her  meaning  clear  with  the  slightest  expenditure  of 
sound. 

"  Yes,  a  little  accident  happened." 

"  An  accident !  "  The  woman's  eyes  blazed,  her  cheeks 
were  aflame,  and  her  whole  attitude  expressive  of  menace. 
"You  didn't  lose  them?" 

"  I  only  lost  control  of  them  for  a  few  hours  through 
a  bit  of  stupidity,"  he  confessed,  and  hurried  on  to  ex 
plain  :  "  For  safe  keeping  this  morning  I  locked  them 


302  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

in  John  Hampstead's  safe  deposit  box,  and  he  went  off 
with  the  key.  He's  wandering  around  the  tenderloin  of 
San  Francisco  now  on  an  errand  for  a  man  in  the  county 
jail,  and  they  don't  even  expect  him  home  before  to 
morrow  morning.  We  can  get  them — " 

Again  Rollie  felt  himself  mentally  interrupted,  al 
though  Miss  Dounay  had  not  spoken. 

This  time,  however,  her  features  did  change  unmis 
takably.  She  had  been  listening  with  a  cynical  expres 
sion  that  somehow  suggested  the  manner  of  a  cat  about 
to  pounce;  and  suddenly  this  manner  had  departed.  It 
was  succeeded  by  a  look  of  surprise  and  then  of  thought 
ful  interest,  followed  by  that  indefinable  something  which 
bade  him  cease  to  speak.  He  paused  abruptly  with  his 
tongue  in  air,  as  it  were;  yet  she  neither  spoke  nor 
looked  at  him.  Her  features  were  a  sort  of  moving 
picture  of  complex  and  swift-flying  mental  processes 
which  succeeded  one  another  with  astonishing  rapidity 
and  ended  in  a  queer  expression  of  glory  and  triumph, 
while  she  stiffened  her  body  and  drew  a  full  breath  so 
quickly  that  the  air  whistled  in  her  narrowing  nostrils. 

Then,  as  if  becoming  suddenly  aware  of  the  visitor's 
presence,  Miss  Dounay  turned  her  eyes  directly  upon  him 
and  exclaimed,  with  a  manner  quite  the  most  pleasant 
she  had  yet  displayed : 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Burbeck.  Something 
you  said  started  such  an  interesting  train  of  thought." 

Her  cordiality  extended  to  the  point  of  reaching  out 
a  hand  and  laying  it  reassuringly  upon  Rollie's  arm,  while 
she  asked,  and  this  time  with  a  tone  of  real  consideration : 

"  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  tell  me  again,  very  care 
fully,  and  a  little  more  in  detail,  just  why  you  couldn't 
bring  the  diamonds  to-day  ?  " 

Rollie,  greatly  relieved  at  this  softening  in  Marien's 
mood  at  the  very  point  where  he  had  feared  she  might 


UNEXPECTEDLY  EASY  303 

actually  leap  on  him  and  throttle  him,  retold  the  story, 
only  being  careful  to  omit  all  reference  as  to  why  he 
chanced  to  be  visiting  Doctor  Hampstead's  box,  and  why 
Doctor  Hampstead  happened  to  come  into  his  office  so 
that  he  might  pick  up  the  key,  as  he  did. 

"  What  an  odd  coincidence ! "  commented  Marien, 
when  the  recital  was  finished.  Actually,  she  was  laugh 
ing.  Rollie's  heart  went  out  to  her  completely.  He  felt 
a  sting  of  self-reproach  at  the  harshness  of  his  judgment 
of  her,  and  was  sensible  of  a  new  charity  growing  in  his 
life  for  all  mankind.  It  was  really  going  to  be  made 
easy  for  him  to  take  "  the  way  up."  He  felt  like  sing 
ing  a  little  psalm  of  thanksgiving. 

"  And  the  minister  has  no  idea  that  the  diamonds  are 
in  his  vault  ? "  that  mercurial  lady  inquired,  with  a 
chuckle. 

"  Not  the  least  in  the  world,"  assured  Rollie,  anxious 
to  relieve  his  benefactor  of  any  slightest  odium  of  indis 
cretion. 

"  And  when  did  you  say  Doctor  Hampstead  was  ex 
pected  home  from  San  Francisco  ?  " 

Miss  Dounay  had  stopped  laughing  and  had  an  intent 
look,  as  if  desiring  to  understand  something  very  clearly. 

"  Perhaps  the  last  boat  to-night  —  possibly  not  till  to 
morrow  morning." 

"  Then  there  is  no  way  of  getting  the  jewels  until 
to-morrow  morning?" 

"  None  at  all,"  confessed  Rollie.  "  But  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  they  are  perfectly  safe  there  —  safer  than  they  are 
in  your  own  apartment." 

"  So  I  should  say,"  Miss  Dounay  observed  dryly,  "  un 
less  I  revise  my  guest  list." 

Rollie  flushed. 

"  That  was  coming  to  me,"  he  confessed,  frowning  at 
himself.  "  That  and  much  more." 


304  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

His  tone  was  serious  and  full  of  bitter  self-reproach. 
Miss  Dounay's  surprisingly  indulgent  attitude  embold 
ened  him  to  pursue  the  disagreeable  subject  farther. 

"  I  have  not  told  you/'  he  went  on,  "  that  I  came  to 
ask  you  for  mercy." 

"  Do  you  not  perceive  that  you  are  getting  it  without 
asking?"  the  actress  replied,  with  a  liquid  glance  that 
was  really  full  of  gentleness  and  sympathy. 

"  Of  course,"  Rollie  averred.  "  But  I  am  so  grateful 
that  I  did  not  want  you  to  think  I  could  take  it  for 
granted.  I  was  in  a  terrible  position,  Miss  Dounay. 
The  crime  was  not  accidental,  but  deliberate ;  that  it  mis 
carried  was  the  accident.  But  that  your  diamonds  are 
to  be  restored  to  you,  and  that  I  myself  am  on  my  way 
to  a  sort  of  character  restoration,  if  I  ever  had  any, 
which  I  begin  to  doubt,  is  all  due  to  one  good  friend 
whom  I  saw  to-day,  and  who  is  also  a  good  friend  of 
yours." 

Again  Rollie  was  interrupted ;  but  this  time  there  was 
nothing  intangible  about  it. 

Miss  Dounay's  face  grew  suddenly  hard;  cruel  lines 
that  were  tense  and  threatening  appeared  about  her 
mouth,  while  her  eyes  bored  straight  into  his,  as  she  ex 
claimed  :  "  Never  mind  about  that  now.  As  for  the 
theft:  you  need  never  hear  from  me  one  word  about 
what  you  have  done.  The  only  injunction  that  I  lay 
upon  you  is  to  keep  absolute  silence  about  it  yourself. 
Remember,  no  matter  what  comes  to  pass,  you  know 
nothing  and  have  nothing  to  say.  So  long  as  you  are 
silent,  I  will  protect  you  absolutely.  Break  the  silence, 
and  you  will  go  where  you  belong! " 

Of  all  the  hard  glances  Miss  Dounay  had  given  young 
Burbeck,  the  look  which  accompanied  this  last  menacing 
sentence  was  positively  the  hardest.  A  spasm  of  mortal 
terror  wrung  the  young  man's  heart,  as  he  saw  how  de- 


UNEXPECTEDLY  EASY  305; 

liberately  implacable  this  woman  could  be,  and  how  com 
pletely  he  was  in  her  power. 

But  presently,  Miss  Dounay,  as  if  suddenly  ashamed 
of  her  outburst  of  feeling  over  so  slight  an  occasion, 
broke  into  radiant  smiles,  took  Rollie  by  the  arm,  and 
led  him  a  few  steps  in  the  direction  of  the  door.  Her 
manner  was  gracious  and  almost  affectionate,  proclaim 
ing  that  at  least  as  long  as  all  went  well  with  her  moods, 
the  whole  wretched  incident  was  past  and  forgotten  ab 
solutely. 

As  if  to  make  this  emphatically  clear,  she  inquired: 

"  And  when  is  it  that  you  go  out  with  Mrs.  Ellsworth 
Harrington  upon  her  launch  party?  " 

"With  Mrs.  Harrington's  launch  party?"  Rollie 
asked,  in  a  dazed  voice,  his  mind  groping  as  at  some 
elusive  memory. 

"Yes,"  the  actress  replied  crisply.  "You  told  me 
yesterday  you  were  going  out  to-day  with  her  party  for 
a  cruise  on  the  Bay." 

"  Yesterday !  "  confessed  Rollie  dreamily.  "  By  Jove, 
so  I  did.  But,"  and  as  though  it  made  all  the  differ 
ence  in  the  world,  "that  was  yesterday!" 

"And  isn't  to-day  to-day?"  Miss  Dounay  asked  sig 
nificantly.  "Going  to  buck  up,  aren't  you?"  she  con 
tinued  with  intimate  friendliness  of  tone.  "  You  are 
still  to  continue  as  the  Amalgamated' s  social  ambas 
sador?" 

"  Why,  of  course,"  the  young  man  replied,  although 
weakly,  for  after  what  he  had  passed  through  of  hope 
and  fear  in  the  past  few  hours  and  even  the  past  few 
minutes,  he  felt  quite  unequal  to  any  such  prospect  as 
the  immediate  resumption  of  his  social  duties. 

But  it  was  a  part  of  the  swiftly  forming  plans  of  the 
strong  willed  woman  that  he  should  take  them  up  im 
mediately,  and  she  cleverly  recalled  his  mind  to  the 


306  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

necessity  of  special  attention  to  Mrs.  Harrington's 
projects  by  inquiring  tentatively:  "I  suppose  Mrs. 
Harrington  was  very  much  put  out  because  I  did  not 
attend  her  dinner  last  night?" 

"  I  should  say ! "  confessed  Rollie,  turning  a  wry  face 
at  the  memory. 

"  Suppose,"  suggested  Miss  Dounay  in  calculating 
tones,  "  that  I  went  with  you  upon  her  launch  party  this 
afternoon." 

"You?  Oh!  Miss  Dounay!"  Rollo  exclaimed,  with 
another  of  his  looks  of  dog-like  gratefulness.  "  Could 
you  be  as  good  as  that  ?  Why,  say ! "  and  the  young 
man's  enthusiasm  actually  began  to  kindle.  "  You'd 
undo  the  damage  of  last  night  and  fix  me  with  her  for 
life.  Positively  for  life;  because,"  and  he  hesitated 
while  an  expression  half  ludicrous  and  half  painful 
crossed  his  face ;  "  because  you  are  ten  times  as  big  a 
social  asset  now  that  —  that  — "  he  could  not  bring  him 
self  to  finish  the  sentence. 

But  Miss  Dounay  relieved  him  of  his  embarrassment 
by  appearing  not  to  notice  and  broke  in  with  a  practical 
question : 

"  What  time  does  the  launch  leave  the  pier?  " 

"  At  four.     It  is  now  one-thirty." 

For  a  moment  Miss  Dounay's  brow  was  threaded  with 
lines  of  thought,  as  if  she  were  making  calculations  and 
tying  the  loose  ends  of  some  project  together  in  her 
mind. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  her  face  clearing  and  a  look  of  impish 
happiness  coming  into  her  eyes,  "  I  can  go.  It  will  be 
a  delightful  relief.  I  have  been  bored  beyond  measure 
by  my  own  company  to-day.  Come  here  at  three-thirty 
and  Frangois  will  take  us  to  the  pier." 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE   FIRST   ALARM 

DOCTOR  HAMPSTEAD  was  more  successful  than  he  had 
dared  to  hope  in  his  quest  for  the  woman  of  the  under 
world  to  whom  the,  Red  'Lizard,  from  his  position  in  the 
county  jail,  acknowledged  a  tardy  obligation.  By  five 
o'clock  the  sufferer  was  located,  her  condition  inquired 
into,  and  the  services  of  a  nurse  from  the  Social  Set 
tlement  near  by  arranged  for,  with  instructions  that 
the  minister  be  notified  of  any  serious  change  in  the  pa 
tient's  condition. 

His  breast  warmed  comfortably  with  the  sense  of  duty 
done,  the  clergyman  made  his  way  toward  the  water 
front,  congratulating  himself  that  he  would  get  the  six 
o'clock  boat  and  be  at  home  in  time  for  dinner ;  but  as  he 
walked  through  the  ferry  building,  his  eye  was  caught 
by  a  headline  in  one  of  the  evening  papers.  "  MIN 
ISTER  TO  BE  ARRESTED"  it  proclaimed  in  tall 
characters  of  glaring  black;  and  he  reflected  cynically 
at  the  eagerness  with  which  the  headline  makers  seize 
upon  that  word  "  minister  "  or  any  of  its  synonyms.  It 
made  the  black  letters  blacker  when  they  spelled  min 
ister,  priest,  or  clergyman. 

Wondering  what  preacher  could  have  got  himself  in 
trouble,  and  feeling  a  slight  sense  of  resentment  at  the 
creature,  whoever  he  might  be,  to  have  thus  brought 
notoriety  and  possible  dishonor  upon  the  calling,  Doctor 
Hampstead  bought  a  copy  of  the  paper  from  fat  Her 
mann  of  the  crutch  and  red  face,  who  has  stood  so 
many  years  at  the  ferry  gate;  but  reading  no  farther 


3o8  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

than  the  headline,  he  doubled  the  paper  in  his  hand  and 
elbowed  his  way  through  the  crowd  to  a  seat  on  the  ex 
posed  upper  deck  of  the  ferryboat.  Wearied  from  the 
exertions  of  his  day,  the  minister  found  temporary  diver 
sion  in  watching  the  fountains  of  humanity  gushing  up 
the  stairways.  Many  of  the  people  he  knew,  and  those 
who  saw  him  nodded  as  they  passed.  Once  or  twice  it 
struck  him  that  there  was  something  peculiar  in  these 
glances  of  recognition,  a  startled  look  of  surprise  or 
wonder  that  he  could  not  quite  understand.  Occasion 
ally  the  bold  look  of  a  man  he  did  not  know  but  who 
apparently  recognized  him  had  in  it  a  quality  of  cynicism 
or  of  gloating. 

With  a  disagreeable  feeling  of  embarrassment  which 
he  did  not  undertake  to  explain,  the  minister  turned  away 
from  the  crowd  and  fell  to  watching  the  sweep  of  bay 
and  the  plowing  craft  upon  it.  The  fresh  salt  breeze 
was  very  grateful  to  his  face  and  lungs  after  the  noisome 
alleys  through  which  his  mission  had  taken  him.  The 
water  this  evening  was  amethyst  blue,  and  under  the 
prows  of  the  passing  boats  broke  into  foam  of  marble 
whiteness.  The  sky  above  was  a  pure  turquoise,  except 
towards  the  west,  where  the  descending  sun  kindled  a 
conflagration  of  glory  in  the  low-lying  clouds.  All  this 
wealth  of  refreshing  color  and  the  tonic  in  the  stiffening 
breeze  made  the  world  not  only  seem  fresh  and  pure,  but 
full  of  power;  as  if  to  give  assurance  that  the  ocean  and 
the  coming  night  were  big  enough  and  strong  enough 
to  swallow  all  the  unpleasantness  and  all  the  weakness 
and  wickedness  of  men,  and  send  the  sun  up  to-morrow 
morning  upon  a  new  day  that  was  fresh  and  pristine, 
like  the  day  of  creation  itself. 

Hampstead  remembered  his  prayer  of  the  morning  that 
this  particular  day  might  be  a  great  one,  and  felt  a 
trifle  disappointed.  In  a  kind  of  a  way  it  had  been  big. 


THE  FIRST  ALARM  309 

Rollie  Burbeck  had  come  to  him,  broken  and  cowering. 
He  had  helped  him;  he  believed  he  had  saved  him. 
Surely,  for  the  time  being,  he  had  saved  that  gifted 
mother  of  his  from  the  awful  shock  of  knowing  that  her 
son  was  a  defaulter  and  a  thief.  True,  he  had  plunged 
heavily  in  rescuing  that  boy;  yet  the  money  came  from 
people  who  believed  in  Hampstead  sufficiently  to  give 
him  of  their  surplus  wealth  for  just  such  ventures.  If 
the  effort  failed,  they  would  regret  the  loss  of  the  man 
more  than  the  loss  of  the  money. 

Yet  the  minister  really  believed  that  Rollie  was  going 
to  take  the  "  way  up  ",  and  assuring  himself  once  more 
of  this,  fell  to  wondering  how  Miss  Dounay  received  the 
penitent  when  he  brought  back  the  diamonds,  and 
whether  she  had  acted  generously  or  spitefully.  Specu 
lating  next  whether  the  story  of  the  return  of  the  dia 
monds  had  been  given  to  the  newspapers  yet,  and  anx 
ious  to  know  how  they  had  handled  it,  if  it  had,  Hamp 
stead  bethought  him  of  the  paper  in  his  hand  and  un 
folded  it  for  inspection. 

But  the  make-up  of  the  front  page  forced  his  atten 
tion  back  upon  the  matter  of  the  minister  who  was  to  be 
arrested.  The  sub-head  startled  him,  for  it  contained 
his  own  name,  while  the  opening  sentence  revealed  that 
it  was  himself  who  was  to  be  arrested,  and  that  the 
occasion  of  the  arrest  was  the  charge  that  he  had  stolen 
the  Dounay  diamonds. 

At  the  first  impact  of  this  astounding  piece  of  news,  an 
exclamation  of  amazement  broke  from  the  minister's 
lips;  but  immediately  his  teeth  were  set  hard  as  his  eye 
dived  down  the  column,  lapping  up  the  words  of  the 
story  by  sentences  and  almost  by  paragraphs. 

Miss  Dounay,  it  appeared,  had  gone  to  the  office  of 
District  Attorney  Miller  at  three  o'clock  that  afternoon 
by  appointment,  and  had  there  sworn  to  a  complaint, 


3io  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

charging  him,  the  Reverend  John  Hampstead,  with  the 
theft  of  her  diamond  necklace,  valued  at  twenty-two 
thousand  dollars.  There  were  a  few  lines  of  an  inter 
view  with  District  Attorney  Miller,  in  which  that  offi 
cial  stated  that  at  first  he  had  not  regarded  Miss  Dounay's 
charges  seriously,  but  that  the  actress  was  so  emphatic 
in  her  demand  for  the  warrant  of  arrest  that  he  had  not 
felt  himself  justified  in  refusing  it.  At  the  same  time, 
the  District  Attorney  expressed  his  personal  belief  in  the 
innocence  of  the  minister. 

An  attempt  to  serve  the  warrant  immediately,  the  story 
said,  had  been  frustrated  by  the  temporary  absence  of  the 
Reverend  Hampstead  in  San  Francisco  upon  one  of  his 
accustomed  missions  of  mercy. 

The  article  concluded  with  the  statement  that  while  it 
was  generally  known  that  Doctor  Hampstead  was  one 
of  Miss  Dounay's  guests  on  the  night  before,  the  report 
that  he  had  been  charged  with  the  theft  of  the  diamonds 
was  everywhere  received  with  a  smile,  and  there  was 
some  harsh  criticism  of  the  District  Attorney  for  issuing 
a  complaint,  the  only  effect  of  which  must  be  to  gratify 
the  enemies  of  the  clergyman,  and  to  lessen  his  influence, 
thus  hampering  him  in  the  good  work  he  was  doing  in 
the  community.  This  would  be  all  to  no  purpose,  since 
even  a  preliminary  hearing  must  be  sufficient  to  show 
that  there  was  no  evidence  against  him,  and  that  the 
complaint  itself  was  due  to  the  extravagant  suspicion  of 
a  highly  nervous  woman,  laboring  under  great  emotional 
strain. 

That  the  actress  herself,  a  woman  of  moods  and  ca 
prices,  had  no  adequate  appreciation  of  the  seriousness  of 
her  act  in  thus  attacking  the  character  of  Doctor  Hamp 
stead  was  made  evident  to  the  reporters,  when  a  tele 
phone  call  to  her  apartments  revealed  that  in  the  very 
hour  when  an  endeavor  to  serve  the  warrant  of  arrest 


THE  FIRST  ALARM  311 

was  being  made,  the  actress  was  leaving  her  hotel  in  the 
company  of  a  well-known  young  business  man  for  a 
pleasure  cruise  upon  the  Bay. 

The  minister  saw  with  satisfaction  how  completely  the 
facts  as  developed  had  been  edited  into  a  story,  the  as 
sumptions  of  which  were  entirely  favorable  to  him. 
That  was  good.  It  was  also  right.  That  in  itself  would 
show  this  reckless  woman  that  the  people  would  refuse 
to  believe  ill  of  him  upon  the  word  of  any  mere  stranger. 

Nevertheless,  reflection  on  the  sheer  impudence  of  the 
woman's  attack  made  Hampstead  angry,  and  with  a 
quick,  nervous  movement  he  crushed  the  paper  into  a 
ball  and  hurled  it  over  the  side. 

Was  there  ever  a  story  of  blacker  ingratitude?  Was 
there  ever  a  weaker,  more  craven  specimen  of  a  man? 
Was  there  ever  a  more  clever,  more  devilish  woman  ? 

So  this  was  the  way  she  made  good  her  threat.  She 
had  set  this  trap,  had  persuaded  Rollie  to  pretend  to  steal 
the  diamonds  and  to  make  a  false  confession  to  him, 
during  which  the  minister  had  actually  sealed  the  dia 
monds  in  one  of  his  own  envelopes.  John  wished  he 
could  be  sure  whether  the  young  rascal  actually  took 
the  diamonds  away  with  him,  as  he  appeared  to  do,  or 
whether  he  didn't  drop  them  in  a  drawer  of  the  desk 
or  about  the  study,  where  a  search  would  reveal  them. 

With  facial  expression  quite  unministerial  Hamp- 
stead's  mind  raced  on  to  the  question  whether  the  story 
of  the  defalcation  was  also  trumped  up?  But  at  this 
point  his  excited  mental  processes  halted,  puzzled  for  a 
moment;  and  then  abruptly  his  face  cleared,  as  he  saw 
the  untenableness  of  his  suddenly  conceived  theory.  No; 
it  would  not  do.  Rollie  had  undoubtedly  been  perfectly 
sincere,  and  this  scheming  Jezebel  of  a  woman  had  merely 
taken  advantage  of  him  in  the  moment  of  confession, 
and  made  him  either  consciously  or  unconsciously,  and 


,312  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

perhaps  helplessly,  a  tool  of  her  desperate  vengeance. 

And  vengeance  for  what?  Hampstead  kept  asking 
himself  that,  and  never  got  farther  with  an  answer  than 
the  rage  of  a  self -centered,  heartless  woman  at  his  failure 
to  pay  the  supreme  tribute  to  vanity  by  making  love  to 
her  as  once  he  had  done,  and  giving  her  the  gloating 
satisfaction  of  spurning  him  as  she  had  spurned  him 
before.  This  was  the  extent  of  his  crime  against  her, 
.and  this  bold,  bald  attempt  to  destroy  him  was  the  punish 
ment  she  had  devised.  Heavens!  Had  the  woman  no 
sense  of  responsibility  at  all?  No  consciousness  of  all 
the  terrible  harm  she  would  be  doing  to  so  many  others 
besides  himself  if  she  succeeded  in  ruining  him?  Think 
of  the  men  and  women  who  trusted  him,  the  young  boys 
and  girls  to  whom  he  was  pointed  out  as  a  shining  ex 
ample,  the  struggling  people  who  found  inspiration  and 
courage  in  the  spectacle  of  his  own  dauntless  battlings 
for  the  right. 

John  felt  that  it  was  not  egotism  to  think  of  himself 
in  this  way.  He  knew  it  as  a  fact  because  he  had  to 
know  it,  because  men  told  him  so  continually,  and  be 
cause  it  was  a  supremely  steadying  influence  upon  his 
own  life.  He  dared  not  swerve.  Rollie  Burbeck  was 
not  the  only  man  in  the  community  who  owed  him  for 
escape  from  a  fall,  or  who  was  toiling  laboriously  up 
ward,  with  an  eye  on  the  minister  climbing  far  above 
and  turning  cheerfully  to  beckon  or  lower  an  Alpine 
rope  for  part  of  the  weakened  climber's  load. 

And  the  Dounay  woman  knew  all  of  this.  Some  of 
it  he  had  shown  to  her  in  the  hope  that  it  would  be  an 
inspiration.  Some  of  it  she  had  seen  for  herself.  But 
now,  in  her  malice  and  hatred,  she  took  no  account  of  all 
that.  Unable  to  make  him  swerve,  she  was  wickedly 
determined  to  hurl  him  down.  And  having  used  Rollo 
Burbeck  this  far,  John  had  no  doubt  at  all  that  her 


THE  FIRST  ALARM  313 

genius  would  be  entirely  equal  to  using  him  still  further, 
by  binding  him  to  absolute  secrecy  as  to  his  knowledge 
of  the  minister's  innocence. 

But  this  thought  brought  home  another  with  shocking 
force, —  the  realization  that  Rollie,  the  one  man  who 
could  vindicate  him  of  this  charge  must  not  vindicate 
him !  For  Rollie  to  speak  and  ruin  himself  seemed  only 
fair,  rather  than  for  the  minister  to  be  ruined;  yet 
for  the  young  man  to  confess  would  be  a  terrible  blow  to 
the  mother, —  would  in  fact  most  likely  kill  her.  That 
was  unthinkable.  That  blow  must  be  prevented  at  all 
hazards. 

But  even  eliminating  the  mother,  and  supposing  the 
young  man  too  craven  to  speak  out  for  himself,  Hamp- 
stead  knew,  thinking  back  a  few  hours,  that  on  his  honor 
as  a  minister  he  had  sealed  his  own  lips  concerning  the 
young  man's  confession;  he  had  hinged  his  appeal  to  the 
moral  consciousness  of  that  misguided  youth  upon  his 
own  fealty  as  a  priest  of  God  to  the  sacred  trust  of  con 
fession.  How  presumptuous  this  afternoon  sounded 
that  speech  which  he  had  made  to  the  wretched  penitent 
this  morning  with  such  easy  assurance. 

Yet,  presumptuous  or  not,  Hampstead's  reasonings 
had  led  him  quickly  to  the  one  outstanding  fact:  His 
knowledge  of  who  did  steal  the  diamonds  could  never 
be  used  in  his  defense.  His  vindication  must  depend 
solely  on  the  inability  of  Miss  Dounay  to  prove  her  case. 
This  in  itself  put  him  in  a  negative  and  an  unnatural  posi 
tion,  an  all  but  helpless  position.  His  nature  was  ag 
gressive.  He  was  a  fighter,  not  a  "  stander."  Instead 
of  vindication,  he  could  never  get  more  than  a  Scotch 
verdict  of  "  not  proven/'  He  would  have  to  face  the 
community  with  that.  ,Well,  thank  God,  he  was  strong 
enough  for  that;  strong  enough  to  simply  stand  and  en 
dure!  Yes,  testing  his  moral  fiber  by  the  best  judgment 


314  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

he  could  form  of  what  the  strain  would  be  like,  he  felt 
equal  to  the  load.  In  the  consciousness  of  this  strength, 
his  shoulders  stiffened  with  pride  and  a  sort  of  eagerness 
to  take  up  their  burden.  A  sense  of  triumph  even  came 
to  him.  This  self -deluding  woman  should  see  how 
strong  he  was,  and  how  unshakable  was  the  faith  of  the 
community  in  the  integrity  of  his  character. 

But  when  the  minister,  rather  calmed  by  having  hard 
ened  himself  thus  against  what  appeared  to  be  coming 
upon  him,  lifted  his  eyes  suddenly  from  the  deck,  he 
was  disconcerted  to  observe  a  group  of  people  eyeing 
him  curiously  at  a  distance  of  some  dozen  or  twenty  feet. 
These  were  people  whom  he  did  not  recognize,  but  some 
one  of  them  evidently  knew  him  and  had  pointed  him  out 
to  the  rest.  He  reflected  that  they  must  have  been 
watching  him  for  some  time.  No  doubt  they  had  ob 
served  his  demeanor  as  he  read  the  paper,  and  after 
wards  when  he  tossed  it  away  in  anger.  He  must  have 
made  quite  an  exhibition  of  himself,  and  it  gave  him  a 
creepy  sensation  to  catch  these  curious,  unfeeling  eyes 
upon  him  as  if  they  viewed  the  struggles  of  a  fly  in  a 
spider's  web.  It  made  him  feel  that  he  was  entangled, 
and  he  began  to  realize  what  a  diversion  his  entanglement 
would  afford  this  whole  metropolitan  community,  and 
that  to-night,  through  the  headlines  in  the  papers,  every 
body  was  watching  him  just  as  these  people  were.  He 
reflected,  too,  that  there  is  a  fascination  about  watching 
the  fall  of  a  tall  tree,  of  a  tall  flagpole,  or  of  a  tall  human 
being.  At  the  moment  Hampstead  did  not  feel  so  very 
tall;  yet  he  knew  that  deservedly  or  undeservedly,  he 
was  upon  a  position  of  eminence,  and  his  fall  would 
afford  an  interesting  spectacle. 

However,  he  did  not  intend  to  fall.  Rising  vigorously 
from  his  seat,  the  minister  confronted  with  a  smile  the 
group  who  had  been  gazing  at  him.  "  Good  evening, 


THE  FIRST  ALARM  315 

gentlemen,"  he  said  pleasantly,  and  walked  toward  the 
front  of  the  boat. 

"  Some  nerve,  what! "  was  a  comment  that  broke  out 
of  the  group  as  he  passed  it.  Whether  the  words  were 
meant  for  his  ears  or  not,  they  reached  them  and  caused 
another  smile. 

"  I'll  show  them  nerve !  "  he  mused,  with  foolish  but 
very  human  pride. 

Mingling  in  the  crowd  which  trampled  and  elbowed  its 
way  off  the  boat,  the  minister  was  careful  to  bear  himself 
with  open-eyed  good  cheer.  He  kept  his  chin  up,  a  self- 
confident  smile  upon  his  face,  and  his  eyes  roving  for  a 
sight  of  familiar  faces.  Whenever  he  caught  the  eye 
of  an  acquaintance,  the  greeting  he  bestowed  was  hearty 
and  betokened  a  man  without  the  slightest  cause  for  anx 
iety  of  any  sort. 

Nevertheless,  it  was  disturbing  to  perceive  that  people 
rather  avoided  his  eye.  Generally  quite  the  reverse  was 
true,  and  it  was  rare  upon  the  boat  that  some  one  did  not 
approach  him  and  fall  into  conversation.  Yet  so  subtle 
is  that  mysterious  psychology  of  the  social  impulse  that 
now  a  mere  publication  of  the  fact  that  he  was  to  be 
arrested,  even  accompanied,  as  it  was,  by  the  statement 
that  nobody  believed  him  guilty,  had  yet  sufficient  influ 
ence  to  make  him  shunned.  What  a  silly  world  it  was, 
after  all! 

But  in  making  the  transfer  from  the  ferry  to  the  sub 
urban  train,  there  was  a  walk  of  two  hundred  feet,  with 
a  news  stand  on  the  way,  and  then  fresh  disillusionment 
lay  in  wait  for  Doctor  Hampstead,  in  the  form  of  a  later 
edition  of  another  Oakland  paper. 

"  CLERIC  FLIES  ARREST,"  bawled  this  headline 
stridently. 

The  minister's  lip  curled  sarcastically  at  sight  of  this, 
but  he  bought  the  paper,  reading  as  he  walked  to  the 


316  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

car  steps.  But  the  sub-head  was  more  disturbing. 
"  Hampstead's  Premises  Searched,"  it  declared,  the  types 
seeming  to  scream  the  words  exultantly. 

Searched  —  and  in  his  absence !  This  was  outrageous ! 
More;  it  was  alarming,  for  there  were  papers  in  his 
study  which  he  had  good  reason  for  keeping  from  the 
eyes  of  the  police.  Fortunately,  however,  the  most  im 
portant  of  these  were  in  the  safe  deposit  box.  He  felt 
deeply  grateful  now  for  this  box,  the  key  to  which  was 
in  his  pocket;  and  after  a  sympathetic  thought  for  Rose, 
Dick,  and  Tayna,  and  the  excited,  bewildered  state  in 
which  they  must  have  received  the  officers,  the  clergyman 
turned  his  mind  to  a  contemplation  of  this  new  account 
in  detail,  and  thereby  got  his  first  real  taste  of  what  an 
unfriendly  attitude  on  the  part  of  a  newspaper  can  make 
of  the  most  innocent  circumstances. 

Up  to  now,  the  minister,  his  utterances,  his  denuncia 
tions,  even  his  moral  crusades,  had  been  popular.  The 
papers  had  put  the  most  favorable  construction  upon  all 
his  acts.  Their  columns  and  their  headlines  had  done 
him  respect  and  honor.  But  now  this  paper  had  put 
every  circumstance  in  the  worst  possible  light.  It 
cleverly  touched  up  those  scenes  in  the  picture  which 
looked  incriminating  and  left  the  others  unillumined,  until 
one  would  never  gather  from  the  story  that  there  was  any 
reason  to  doubt  the  guilt  or  the  guilty  flight  of  the  min 
ister. 

Hampstead  attributed  this  to  mere  unfriendliness,  never 
suspecting  that  in  one  hour  between  editions  an  editor 
could  have  subtly  sensed  a  popular  readiness  to  accept 
the  worst  view  of  his  case,  and  deliberately  pandered 
to  it  as  a  mere  matter  of  commercial  newsmonger  ing ; 
nor  that  this  unfavorable  account  was  to  be  accepted  as 
the  first  straw  blown  up  in  a  hurricane  of  adverse  criti 
cism  which  would  rise  and  sweep  over  the  city  and 


THE  FIRST  ALARM  317 

blow  its  very  hardest  in  the  aisles  of  All  People's  Church 
itself. 

The  effect  of  this  narrative  upon  Hampstead's  mind 
was  unspeakably  oppressive,  and  he  looked  up  from  its 
perusal  with  relief  and  pleasure  at  finding  a  well-known 
physician  in  the  seat  beside  him.  The  doctor  was  prom 
inent  in  the  work  of  one  of  the  Encina  churches,  and 
had  been  particularly  sympathetic  with  Hampstead  in 
campaigns  against  petty  crime.  The  minister  had  a 
right,  therefore,  to  feel  that  this  man  was  one  of  his 
friends;  yet  the  physician  greeted  him  with  a  self-con 
scious  air  and  immediately  relapsed  into  silence.  Hamp 
stead  endured  this  until  the  humor  of  the  situation  forced 
itself  upon  him. 

"  Oh,  cheer  up/'  he  laughed,  poking  the  physician  with 
an  elbow.  ''  You  probably  know  worse  people  than  dia 
mond  thieves." 

The  doctor  also  laughed  and  disclaimed  any  sense  of 
gloom,  but  his  was  an  embarrassed  merriment,  and  he 
refrained  from  meeting  the  eye  of  the  minister.  How 
ever,  after  another  interval  of  silence,  as  if  feeling  that 
he  should  at  any  rate  say  something,  he  reached  over  and 
laid  a  patronizing  hand  upon  the  minister's  knee. 

"Of  course,  Doctor  Hampstead,"  he  suggested,  " every 
one  is  confident  you  will  be  able  to  prove  your  innocence." 

The  minister  made  an  ejaculation  that  was  short  and 
sharp. 

The  doctor  looked  at  him  with  surprise,  as  if  ques 
tioning  whether  he  heard  aright. 

"  Under  the  law,  I  thought  a  man  was  presumed  to  be 
innocent,  and  that  his  accusers  had  to  prove  his  guilt," 
went  on  Hampstead. 

The  doctor  flushed  slightly,  and  while  his  eyes  roved 
through  the  car  window,  declared: 

"  Well,  I  am  afraid,  Doctor  Hampstead,  you  will  find 


318  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

that  a  public  man  against  whom  a  charge  like  this  is 
hurled  is  presumed  to  be  guilty  until  he  proves  himself 
innocent." 

"That  is  your  attitude?"  inquired  Hampstead  coldly. 

"  Oh,  by  no  means,"  protested  the  physician. 

"  It  is  his  attitude  all  the  same,"  commented  the  min 
ister  to  himself,  somewhat  bitterly,  as  he  descended  from 
the  train  at  the  station  nearest  his  home. 

"  How  does  he  take  it  ?  "  asked  one  sage  citizen,  crowd 
ing  into  the  vacant  seat  beside  the  physician,  while  a 
second  leaned  over  from  behind  to  hear  the  answer. 

"  Very  much  worried,"  replied  the  doctor,  as  gravely 
and  as  oracularly  as  he  would  have  pronounced  upon 
another  man's  patient.  "  Very  much  worried !  " 

"  Would  you  believe,"  the  physician  inquired  presently 
of  the  first  citizen,  with  a  hesitating  and  extremely  con 
fidential  air,  "  would  you  believe  that  Doctor  Hamp 
stead  would  say  '  hell ' — outside  of  a  sermon,  I  mean?  " 

"  No,"  answered  the  man  addressed,  "  I  would  not," 
and  his  eyebrows  were  lifted,  while  his  whole  face  ex 
pressed  surprise,  shock,  and  a  desire  for  confirmation. 

"  Well,"  concluded  the  doctor  enigmatically,  "  neither 
would  I."  And  that  was  all  Doctor  Mann  did  say  upon 
the  subject,  yet  citizen  number  one,  while  casting  the  dice 
with  citizen  number  two  at  the  Tobacco  Emporium  on  the 
corner  next  the  railroad  station  to  see  which  should  pay 
for  their  after-dinner  smoke,  communicated  in  confidence 
that  the  Reverend  Hampstead  had,  in  the  stress  of  his 
emotion,  uttered  an  oath ;  in  fact,  and  to  be  specific,  had 
said  that  his  persecutors,  all  and  singular,  and  this  actress 
woman  in  particular,  could  go  to  hell! 

This  conference  between  citizen  one  and  two  may  have 
been  overheard.  An  inference  that  it  was  so  overheard 
might  have  been  drawn  from  the  columns  of  The  Sen 
tinel,  which  next  morning  concluded  its  story  of  the  re- 


THE  FIRST  ALARM  319 

markable  developments  of  the  night  with  the  observation 
that  the  character  of  the  minister  was  evidently  cracking 
under  the  strain,  since  last  night  upon  the  suburban  train, 
when  a  friend  addressed  him  with  a  solicitous  inquiry, 
the  accused  clergyman  had  broken  into  a  stream  of  pro 
fane  objurgations  loud  enough  to  be  heard  above  the  roar 
of  the  train  in  several  seats  around.  It  was  added  that 
the  reverend  gentleman  quickly  regained  control  of  his 
feelings  and  apologized  for  his  form  of  expression  by 
saying  that  he  had  been  overworked  for  a  long  time  and 
the  developments  of  the  day  had  seriously  upset  him. 

John  Hampstead  read  this  particular  paragraph  in  The 
Sentinel  with  a  sense  of  utter  amazement  at  the  wicked 
mendacity  of  public  rumor,  since  what  he  had  said  to 
Doctor  Mann  was  merely  "  Humph !  "  uttered  with  sharp 
and  scornful  emphasis. 

But  there  was  a  far  bigger  story  than  that  in  the  morn 
ing  Sentinel.  It  had  to  do  with  those  things  which  hap 
pened  between  the  hour  when  John  Hampstead  dropped 
from  his  train,  a  little  irritated  with  Doctor  Mann,  and 
the  hour  when  he  went  to  bed,  but  not  to  sleep. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

THE   ARREST 

As  the  perturbed  minister,  hurrying  from  the  train, 
turned  into  the  short  street  leading  toward  his  home 
upon  the  Bay-side,  he  was  charged  upon  by  Dick  and 
Tayna,  both  of  whom,  in  the  state  of  their  emotion,  for 
got  High  School  dignity  and  came  rushing  upon  their 
uncle  with  feet  thudding  like  running  ostriches.  Tayna's 
cheeks  were  red  as  her  Titian  hair  with  flaming  indigna 
tion,  and  her  eyes  burned  like  lights,  while  her  full  red 
lips  pouted  out :  "  Isn't  it  a  shame  ?  " 

"  It's  a  darn  piece  of  blackmail,  that's  what  it  is,  and 
it's  actionable,  too !  " 

This  oracular  verdict,  of  course,  came  panting  from 
the  lips  of  Dick,  who,  over-exerted  by  his  run,  stood  with 
arms  akimbo,  hands  holding  his  sides,  and  his  too  heavy 
^ead  tipping  backward  on  his  shoulders,  while  with  scru 
tinizing  eye  he  studied  the  face  of  his  uncle. 

As  for  Hampstead,  in  the  devoted  loyalty  of  these 
fatherless  children  and  the  distress  of  mind  which  each 
exhibited,  he  entirely  forgot  the  sense  of  hot  injustice 
and  wrong  burning  in  his  own  breast.  All  the  emotion 
he  was  then  capable  of  turned  itself  into  sympathy  for 
them  and  solicitous  anticipations  as  to  the  effect  of  the 
whole  wretched  business  upon  his  sister  Rose.  With  a 
sweep  of  his  strong  arms,  he  gathered  the  two  young 
people  to  his  breast,  printing  a  kiss  on  Tayna's  cheek, 
which  he  found  burning  hot,  and  squeezing  Dick  until 
the  stripling  gasped  and  struggled  for  release  as  he  used 


THE  ARREST  321 

to  do  when  a  squirming  youngster.  .With  his  arms  still 
affectionately  about  the  shoulders  of  the  two,  Hampstead 
walked  on  down  the  street,  palm-studded,  with  flower- 
bordered  skirts  of  green  on  either  side  and  the  blue  vista 
of  the  Bay  showing  dimly  in  the  growing  dusk. 

Rose  was  waiting  on  the  piazza.  Her  face  was  very 
calm,  yet  to  John's  keen  eye,  it  bore  a  look  of  desperately 
mustered  self-control.  With  the  ready  intuition  of  her 
sex,  she  had  divined  far  more  completely  than  her  brother 
how  desperate  and  dangerous  was  the  struggle  upon 
which  he  was  entering,  and  she  was  determined  to  give 
him  every  advantage  that  sympathy,  poise,  and  unwaver 
ing  loyalty  could  supply. 

"  It's  all  right,  Rose,  all  right,"  he  hastened  to  assure 
her,  as  the  steps  were  mounted.  "  A  mere  extravagance 
of  an  excited  woman  that  the  papers  have  made  into  a 
great  sensation.  It  will  melt  away  like  fog.  We  are 
helpless  for  a  few  days  until  I  can  demand  and  receive 
a  hearing  upon  preliminary  trial.  That  will  show  that 
they  have  no  case  at  all.  Until  then,  we  must  simply 
stand  and  be  strong." 

Rose  was  already  in  her  brother's  arms,  yet  his  speech, 
instead  of  reassuring  her,  made  the  tears  flow. 

"  It  is  so  —  so  humiliating  to  think  of  you  defending 
yourself,"  she  protested,  "  to  hear  you  talk  of  their 
inability  to  make  out  a  case.  It  seems  so  —  so  lowering, 
as  if  you  were  going  to  be  put  on  trial  just  like  a  crim 
inal." 

"  Why,"  replied  John,  "  that's  just  what  it  all  means. 
Just  like  a  criminal!" 

He  said  the  thing  strongly  enough,  but  after  it  came  a 
choke  in  the  throat.  He  had  not  really  comprehended 
this  before.  He  had  thought  of  making  his  defense 
from  the  standpoint  of  the  popular  idol  that  he  was.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  he  was  going  to  trial  like  any  criminal. 


322  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

His  vantage  ground  was  merely  that  of  the  prisoner  at 
the  bar.     This  prepared  him  for  what  Rose  had  to  say 
next;   for  subtly  perceiving  that  her  brother  had  sus 
tained  an  additional  shock,  her  own  self-control  revived. 
Wiping  her  eyes,  she  turned  to  lead  the  way  within. 
'  They,"  she  said  solemnly,  "  are  waiting  in  the  study." 
"They?"  inquired  Hampstead. 

"  There  are  four  men  in  there,"  Rose  replied.  "  They 
want,"  and  her  voice  threatened  to  break,  "  they  want 
you!" 

At  this  bald  putting  of  the  horrible  fact,  Tayna  burst 
into  a  wail  of  woe  and  flung  her  arms  about  her  uncle, 
whom  she  had  followed  into  the  hall. 

''  There,  there,  girl,  don't  cry,"  urged  her  uncle  sooth 
ingly.  "  There  is  no  occasion  for  it ;  this  is  annoying 
but  not  necessarily  distressing.  It  is  a  mere  formality 
of  the  law  which  must  be  complied  with.  Run  along 
now,  all  of  you,  and  wash  the  tears  out  of  your  eyes.  I 
will  be  with  you  in  five  minutes.  Let  us  sit  down  to  a 
happy,  cheerful  dinner.  I  confess  I  am  a  little  upset 
myself,  but  not  too  disturbed  to  be  hungry,"  and  with  a 
weak  attempt  at  grimacing  humor,  the  big  man  laid  a 
hand  upon  the  region  of  his  diaphragm. 

In  his  study,  as  Rose  had  forewarned  him,  the  min 
ister  found  four  men :  Searle,  Assistant  District  Attor 
ney;  Wyatt,  Deputy  Sheriff;  and  two  city  detectives. 

Searle  was  a  suave,  resourceful  man  and  the  one  as 
sistant  in  the  District  Attorney's  office  whom  Hamp 
stead  had  found  himself  unable  to  trust;  and  that  rather 
because  of  his  personal  and  political  associations  than 
for  any  overt  act  of  which  the  minister  was  cognizant. 

Wyatt  was  a  bloated  person,  amiable  in  disposition, 
whose  excess  of  egotism  was  coupled  with  a  paucity  of 
intelligence,  yet  wholly  incorruptible  and  with  an  exag 
gerated  sense  of  duty  that  made  him  a  capable  officer, — 


THE  ARREST  323 

a  thing  with  which  his  breeding,  which  was  obtrusively 
low,  did  not  interfere. 

Hampstead  was  able  to  master  his  feelings  sufficiently 
to  greet  the  quartet  urbanely,  if  not  cordially. 

"  A  disagreeable  duty,  I  assure  you/'  conceded  Searle. 

"  A  disagreeable  experience,"  laughed  Hampstead,  but 
with  no  great  suggestion  of  levity. 

"  I  guess  I  don't  need  to  read  this  to  you,  Doc,"  said 
the  Deputy  Sheriff,  as  he  opened  to  Hampstead  a  docu 
ment  drawn  from  his  pocket.  "  It  is  a  warrant  for  your 
arrest." 

The  minister  took  the  document  and  glanced  it 
through,  his  eyes  hesitating  for  a  moment  at  the  name  of 
the  complaining  witness. 

"  Alice  Higgins  ?  "  he  asked,  with  an  inquiring  glance. 

"  The  true  name  of  the  complaining  witness  and  ac 
cuser,"  replied  Searle. 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  assented  John. 

It  had  never  occurred  to  him  that  Marien  Dounay  was 
only  a  stage  name.  Was  there  anything  at  all  about  this 
woman  that  was  not  false,  he  wondered. 

John  returned  the  warrant  to  Wyatt  and  caught  the 
look  in  that  officer's  eye.  A  sense  of  the  horrible  indig 
nity  of  arrest  came  over  the  minister,  a  perception  of 
what  it  meant:  this  yielding  of  one's  liberty,  of  one's 
body  to  the  possession  of  another,  who  might  be  a  coarser 
and  more  inferior  person  than  one's  self.  With  a  guilty 
flush,  John  thought  how  many  times  in  his  crusades 
against  the  gamblers  and  small  law-breakers  he  had 
procured  the  swearing  out  of  complaints  that  led  to  the 
arrest  of  scores  of  men.  He  had  marveled  at  the  ven 
omous  hatred  which  those  men  later  displayed  toward 
himself,  regarding  him  as  the  author  of  a  public  disgrace 
put  upon  them,  and  not  upon  them  alone  but  upon  their 
families  also.  Now  he  understood. 


324  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  The  bail  is  fixed  at  ten  thousand  dollars,"  explained 
Searle  smoothly.  "  When  we  got  your  telephone  mes 
sage  that  you  would  be  home  at  seven  o'clock,  I  took  the 
liberty  of  arranging  for  Judge  Brennan  to  be  in  his 
chambers  at  nine  to-night  so  that  you  could  be  there 
with  your  bondsmen  and  not  have  to  spend  the  night  in 
jail." 

"  That  was  very  considerate  of  you,"  assented  the 
minister,  a  huskiness  in  his  tone  despite  himself. 

The  night  in  jail !  The  very  idea.  And  ten  thousand 
dollars  bail!  He  had  expected  to  be  released  upon  his 
own  recognizance.  Again  that  disagreeable  intimation 
of  being  treated  like  a  common  criminal  came  crowding 
in  with  a  suffocating  effect  upon  his  spirit.  But  he  ral 
lied,  exclaiming  with  another  effort  at  easy  urbanity: 
"  Very  well,  I  acknowledge  my  arrest,  and  it  will  be  un 
necessary  to  detain  you  gentlemen  further.  I  shall  be 
glad  to  meet  you  with  my  bondsmen  in  the  judge's 
chambers." 

The  Deputy  Sheriff  coughed  in  an  embarrassed  way, 
but  stood  stolidly  before  his  prisoner. 

"  I  am  sorry,  Doctor  Hampstead,"  explained  Searle, 
"  but  we  shall  have  to  search  you.  Benson's  men  here 
will  do  that." 

"Search  me?"  exclaimed  Hampstead,  with  a  sudden 
sense  of  insult.  "  By  the  appearance  of  things,"  he 
added,  while  casting  a  sarcastic  look  at  the  signs  of  dis 
order  about,  "  I  should  think  this  farce  had  been  carried 
far  enough.  You  did  not  find  the  diamonds  here.  You 
do  not  expect  to  find  them  upon  my  person,  do  you  ?  " 

The  speaker's  tones  witnessed  a  natural  indignation 
and  considerable  irritability. 

"  I  got  to  do  my  duty,"  replied  Wyatt  stubbornly,  mak 
ing  a  sign  to  the  two  detectives,  who  immediately  arose 
and  advanced  upon  the  minister. 


THE  ARREST  325 

an  instant  the  situation  was  exceedingly  tense. 
Hampstead  was  a  very  strong  man,  and  his  resentment 
at  what  seemed  an  insult  put  upon  him  with  malice,  was 
very  hot.  But  good  sense  triumphed  in  the  interval  of 
thought  which  the  officers  diplomatically  allowed. 

"  Oh,  of  course/'  he  exclaimed  with  a  gesture  of  sub 
mission,  "  you  men  are  only  cogs.  Once  the  machinery 
of  the  law  is  put  in  motion,  you  must  turn  with  the 
other  wheels.  Pardon  my  irritation,  gentlemen,  but  the 
situation  is  unusual  for  me  and  rather  hard.  I  feel  the 
injustice  and  indignity  of  it  very  keenly." 

".We  appreciate  your  situation  perfectly/'  said  Assist 
ant  District  Attorney  Searle  smoothly.  "  As  you  say, 
we  are  all  of  us  cogs." 

Yet  the  actual  search  of  his  person,  once  entered  on, 
seemed  to  Hampstead  to  proceed  rather  perfunctorily, 
although  at  the  same  time  he  got  from  the  faces  and 
manner  of  all  four  an  impression  of  something  they  were 
holding  in  reserve. 

"What  is  this?"  asked  one  of  the  detectives  dramat 
ically,  holding  up  a  long,  narrow  key  with  a  red  rubber 
band  doubled  and  looped  about  the  neck,  which  he  had 
just  extracted  from  the  minister's  pocket. 

u  That  is  the  key  to  my  safe  deposit  box  at  the  Amal 
gamated  National,"  replied  Hampstead,  naturally  enough. 

"  Then,"  said  Wyatt  bluntly,  "  we've  got  to  search  that 
box." 

The  minister  was  instantly  on  his  guard. 

Some  play  of  eyes  between  the  four  men,  accompanied 
by  a  subtle  change  in  the  expression  of  their  faces, 
warned  him  that  they  must  have  been  apprised  of  the 
existence  of  this  box  and  that  the  key  was  the  real  ob 
ject  of  their  personal  search.  Hampstead  resolved 
hastily  to  defeat  them. 

"  I  decline  to  permit  it,"  he  declared  shortly.     "  There 


326  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

are  very  private  papers  in  that  box,  things  which  have 
been  communicated  to  me  in  the  utmost  confidence,  and 
I  would  not  be  justified  in  permitting  you  —  or  any  one 
else  —  to  handle  them.  Under  the  rules  of  the  bank, 
without  my  consent  or  an  order  of  court,  you  could  not 
reach  the  box." 

"  I  have  that  order  of  court  here,"  said  Searle,  speak 
ing  up  quickly,  but  with  cold  precision  of  utterance,  "  in 
a  search  warrant  directed  particularly  to  your  safe  de 
posit  box." 

Like  a  flash,  Hampstead  thought  that  he  under 
stood. 

"So  that  is  what  you  are  here  for,  Searle?"  he 
snapped  sarcastically,  turning  and  confronting  the  As 
sistant  District  Attorney.  "  I  never  have  trusted  you. 
I  couldn't  understand  your  presence  here  or  your  in 
terest  in  this  silly  charge;  but  now  I  comprehend  fully. 
You  have  taken  advantage  of  it  to  get  your  eyes  on  the 
perjury  case  I  have  against  your  bosom  friend,  Jack 
Roche.  Well,  I  warn  you!  This  is  where  I  stop  and 
fight!" 

But  Searle  refused  to  get  angry  at  this  bald  impugn 
ment  of  his  integrity  and  motives.  No  doubt  it  was  his 
confidence  in  an  ultimate  and  complete  humiliation  of 
the  minister  that  enabled  him  to  maintain  an  unruffled 
demeanor  while  he  suggested  blandly: 

"  Perhaps  you  ought  not  to  proceed  further,  Doctor 
Hampstead,  without  the  advice  of  a  lawyer." 

The  proposal  touched  the  minister  in  his  pride. 

"A  lawyer?"  he  objected  scornfully.  "Thank  you, 
no !  My  cause  requires  no  expert  advocacy.  In  my  ex 
perience  of  the  past  four  years,  I  have  learned  quite 
enough  about  court  practice  to  cope  with  this  ridiculous 
burlesque  without  professional  assistance." 

Searle,  playing  his  cards  deliberately,  took  advantage 


THE  ARREST  327 

of  the  minister's  assumed  acquaintance  with  legal  lore  to> 
suggest  with  alacrity : 

"  You  know  then,  Doctor,  that  it  is  useless  to  fight  a. 
court  order  of  this  sort,  as  you  spoke  of  doing  in  your 
excitement  a  moment  ago.  I  think,  with  the  attorneys 
of  your  Civic  League,  you  have  gone  through  a  safe  de 
posit  box  or  two  upon  your  own  account,  by  means  of 
just  such  a  search  warrant  as  I  now  exhibit  to  you." 

Again  Hampstead's  second  thought  assured  him  that 
he  was  powerless  to  resist. 

"  Yes,"  he  confessed  resignedly  to  Searle's  speech, 
after  the  necessary  interval  for  consideration,  "  I  sup 
pose  I  must  admit  it.  When  I  spoke  of  fighting,  I  spoke 
in  heat;  partly  because  I  feel  the  gross  injustice  and  bit 
ter  wrong  this  senseless  charge  is  doing  to  innocent  peo 
ple  other  than  myself,  who  am  also  innocent,  and  partly 
because,  as  I  have  already  told  you,  I  utterly  distrust 
your  motive  in  making  the  whole  of  this  search.  You 
must  be  as  well  aware  as  I  that  this  charge  is  the  work  of 
a  woman  who,  to  speak  most  charitably,  is  beside  herself 
with  excitement."  i 

But  Searle  only  smiled,  and  observed  with  urbanity 
unruffled. 

"  I  am  sorry,  Doctor,  that  you  distrust  me.  You 
may  have  the  privilege,  of  course,  of  being  present  when 
we  examine  the  contents  of  the  box." 

"  Naturally  I  shall  insist  upon  that,"  said  the  minister. 

"  In  that  case,"  Searle  added  with  significant  em 
phasis,  "  I  think  your  observations  will  convince  you  that 
we  are  solely  concerned  in  a  search  for  the  diamonds." 

"  As  I  like  to  believe  well  of  all  men,  I  shall  hope  so/' 
countered  the  minister;  and  then,  since  the  demeanor  of 
the  officers  made  it  clear  there  was  no  more  searching  to 
be  done,  he  continued,  after  a  glance  at  his  watch :  "  If 
I  am  to  meet  Judge  Brennan  and  yourself  with  my  bonds- 


328  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

men  at  nine  o'clock,  I  suggest  that  we  go  from  there 
direct  to  the  bank  vaults.  They  are  accessible  until  mid 
night,  as  you  doubtless  know." 

"  Very  good,  Doctor,"  replied  Searle  in  that  oily  voice 
which  indicated  how  completely  to  his  satisfaction  affairs 
were  progressing. 

"  And  now,"  suggested  the  minister,  with  a  nod  to 
ward  the  street  door,  "  as  the  hour  is  late,  I  will  ask  you 
.gentlemen  to  excuse  me." 

Searle  darted  a  look  at  Wyatt. 

"  Very  sorry,  Doc,  but  I  got  to  stay  with  you,"  volun 
teered  the  deputy,  "  and  hand  you  over  to  the  judge." 

Once  more  the  flush  of  offense  mounted  to  the  cheek 
of  Hampstead.  Hand  him  over  to  the  judge!  How 
galling  such  language  was  when  used  of  him!  Again 
he  recalled  with  compunction  how  many  arrests  he  had 
caused  without  an  emotion  beyond  the  satisfaction  of  an 
angler  when  he  hooks  a  fish.  But  he  —  John  Hampstead 
—  minister,  preacher,  pastor  of  All  People's;  a  shining 
light  in  a  vast  metropolitan  community!  Surely  it  was 
something  different  and  infinitely  more  degrading  for 
him  to  be  arrested  than  for  a  mere  plasterer,  or  mayhap 
a  councilman?  He  had  a  greater  right  than  they  to  be 
wrathful  and  resentful.  Besides,  they  were  guilty. 
Judges,  juries,  or  their  own  confessions,  had  unfailingly 
so  declared.  He  was  innocent,  spotlessly  innocent  of  the 
charge  against  him.  His  defenselessness  proceeded 
from  relations  of  comparative  intimacy  with  the  actress, 
and  his  priestly  knowledge  of  the  guilty  person.  Yet  the 
thought  of  this  helped  humor  and  good  sense  to  triumph 
again,  over  his  rising  choler. 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  he  exclaimed,  half-jocularly,  half- 
derisively.  "Make  yourself  at  home;  all  of  you  make 
yourselves  at  home.  We  are  accustomed  to  an  unex 
pected  guest  or  two  at  the  table.  Be  prepared  to  come 


THE  ARREST  329 

out  to  dinner.  Listen,  if  you  like,  while  an  arrested 
felon  telephones  to  his  friends,  seeking  bondsmen.  You 
may  hear  secret  codes  and  signals  passing  over  the  wire. 
You  may  even  wish  to  put  under  surveillance  the  gen 
tlemen  with  whom  I  communicate." 

"Doctor!  Doctor!"  protested  Searle,  with  hands  up 
lifted  comically.  "  Your  hospitality  and  your  irony  both 
embarrass  us.  The  detectives  and  I  will  be  on  our  way. 
Wyatt  will  have  to  do  his  duty." 

"  As  you  please,"  exclaimed  Hampstead,  who  was  fast 
recovering  his  poise ;  "  quite  as  you  please." 

With  this  speech  he  held  open  the  outside  door  and 
bade  the  three  departing  guests  good  evening;  and  then, 
while  the  Deputy  waited  in  the  room,  the  clergyman  was 
busy  at  the  telephone  until  he  had  the  promise  of  three 
different  gentlemen  of  his  acquaintance  to  meet  him  at 
Judge  Brennan's  chambers  at  nine  that  night  and  qualify 
as  his  bondsmen  in  the  sum  of  ten  thousand  dollars. 

This  much  attended  to,  dinner  became  the  next  order; 
but  it  was  not  a  very  happy  affair.  There  had  never 
been  a  time  when  the  little  family  group,  bound  together 
by  ties  that  were  unusually  tender,  wished  more  to  be 
alone  at  a  meal.  Now,  when  the  superfluous  presence 
was  the  official  representative  of  the  very  thing  that  had 
plunged  them  into  gloom,  the  situation  became  one  of 
torture.  Food  stuck  to  palates.  Scraps  of  conversation 
were  dropped  at  rare  intervals  and  upon  entirely  ex 
traneous  subjects  in  which  nobody,  not  even  the  speakers, 
had  the  slightest  interest.  At  times  there  was  no  sound 
save  the  audible  enjoyment  of  his  food  by  their  guest, 
for  the  Deputy  Sheriff,  accustomed  to  the  ruthless  thrust 
of  his  official  self  into  the  personal  and  sometimes  the 
domestic  life  of  individuals,  was  quite  too  crass  to  sense 
the  embarrassment  and  positive  pain  his  presence  caused 
and  was  also  exceedingly  hungry. 


330  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

In  this  general  silence,  the  grating  of  wheels  on  the 
graveled  walk  outside  the  study  door  sounded  loudly. 

"  Mrs.  Burbeck !  "  exclaimed  Hampstead  in  some  sur 
prise.  "  She  never  came  to  me  at  night  before.  Finish 
your  dinner,  Deputy.  If  you  will  excuse  me,  I  must 
receive  one  of  my  parishioners  in  the  study." 

"  Sorry,  but  I  can't  excuse  you,  Doc,"  replied  Wyatt 
jocularly;  "but  if  you'll  excuse  me  for  just  a  minute, 
while  I  get  away  with  this  second  piece  of  loganberry  pie, 
I'll  be  with  you." 

"  Be  with  me  ?  "  asked  the  minister,  color  rising.  "  Do 
you  mean  that  you  will  intrude  upon  the  privacy  of  an 
interview  with  a  helpless  lady  in  a  wheel  chair  who 
comes  to  see  me  alone  ?  " 

Wyatt's  fat  cheek  was  bulging,  and  there  were  tiny 
streams  of  crimson  juice  at  the  corners  of  the  lips;  but 
he  interrupted  himself  long  enough  to  reply  bluntly: 
"  I  ain't  agoin'  to  let  you  out  of  my  sight.  Orders  is 
orders,  that's  all  I  got  to  say." 

"  But  tell  me,  Wyatt,  who  gave  you  such  orders  ? " 
queried  the  minister,  with  no  effort  to  conceal  his  irri 
tation. 

"  Searle.  And  they  were  give  to  him,"  answered  the 
Deputy  phlegmatically,  his  fat-imbedded  eyes  intent  upon 
the  white  and  crimson  segment  of  pastry  on  his  plate. 

"  And  who  gave  such  orders  to  him?  "  persisted  Hamp 
stead. 

"If  you  ask  me — "  began  the  Deputy,  and  then  exas- 
peratingly  blotted  out  the  possibility  of  further  speech 
by  the  transfer  of  the  dripping  triangle  to  his  mouth. 

"  Well,  I  do  ask  you,"  declared  the  minister  curtly. 

"  He  got  'em  from  Miss  Dounay." 

"  And  is  that  woman  running  the  District  Attorney's 
office?"  questioned  the  minister  scornfully. 

"Search  me!"  gulped  Wyatt,  with  a  shrug  of  his 


THE  ARREST  331 

shoulders.  "  I  had  one  look  at  her.  She's  got  eyes  like 
a  pair  of  automatics.  You  take  it  from  me,  Doc,"  and 
Wyatt  laid  his  unoccupied  hand  upon  the  sleeve  of  the 
minister,  "  if  she's  got  anything  on  you,  compromise  and 
do  it  quick;  if  she  ain't,  fight,  and  fight  like  h — ." 
Wyatt  stopped  and  shot  an  apologetic  glance  around  the 
table.  "  'Scuse  my  French,"  he  blurted,  "  but  you  know 
what  I  mean." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  minister,  holding  his  head  very 
straight,  "  I  realize  that  you  do  not  mean  to  insult  me." 

"Insult  you?"  argued  the  Deputy,  overflowing  with 
satisfied  amiability.  "  After  coming  over  here  to  arrest 
you,  and  you  givin'  me  a  dinner  like  this  ?  Pie  like  this  ? 
Well,  I  guess  not.  I'm  bribed,  Doc,  that's  what  I  am. 
I  got  to  go  in  that  room  with  you  when  you  see  the  old 
lady;  but  I'll  hold  my  thumbs  in  my  ears,  and  I  won't 
see  a  d —  there  I  go  again."  Once  more  Wyatt's 
apologetic  look  swept  around  the  table. 

"  Mrs.  Burbeck  is  in  the  study,"  announced  the  maid. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

THE  ANGEL  ADVISES 

BECAUSE  locomotion  was  not  easy  for  her,  it  was  to 
have  been  expected  that  the  conferences  between  John 
Hampstead  and  Mrs.  Burbeck,  which,  especially  in  the 
early  days  of  his  pastorate,  had  been  so  many,  would  take 
place  in  that  lady's  home;  and  they  usually  did.  But  as 
time  went  on,  her  own  independence  of  spirit  and  in 
creased  consideration  for  the  minister  led  Mrs.  Burbeck 
frequently  to  prefer  to  come  to  him.  To  make  this  easy, 
two  planks  had  been  laid  to  form  a  simple  runway  to  the 
stoop  at  the  study  door.  When,  therefore,  the  minister 
entered  his  library  to-night,  closely  followed  by  Wyatt,  he 
found  that  good  woman  waiting  in  the  wheel  chair  beside 
his  desk.  The  object  of  her  call  showed  instantly  in  an 
expression  of  boundless  and  tender  solicitude;  and  yet  the 
clergyman  immediately  forgot  himself  in  a  conscience- 
stricken  concern  for  his  visitor. 

"  You  should  not  have  come,"  he  exclaimed  quickly, 
sympathy  and  mild  reproach  mingling,  while  a  devotion 
like  that  of  a  son  for  a  mother  was  conveyed  in  his  tone 
and  glance. 

Truly,  Mrs.  Burbeck  had  never  looked  so  frail.  All 
but  the  faintest  glow  of  color  had  gone  from  her  cheeks; 
her  eyes  were  bright,  but  with  a  luster  that  seemed  un 
earthly,  and  her  skin  had  a  transparent,  wax-like  look  that 
to  the  clergyman  was  alarmingly  suggestive,  as  if  the  pale 
bloom  of  another  world  were  upon  her  cheeks,  which  a 
single  breath  must  wither. 


THE  ANGEL  ADVISES  333 

Making  these  observations  swiftly  as  his  stride  carried 
him  to  her,  the  minister,  speaking  in  that  rich  baritone  of 
melting  tenderness  which  was  one  of  Hampstead's  most 
charming  personal  assets,  concluded  with :  "  You  are  not 
well.  You  are  not  at  all  well." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  the  Angel  answered,  "  I  am  well." 

Although  she  spoke  in  a  voice  that  appeared  to  be  thin 
to  the  point  of  breaking,  her  tone  was  even,  and  her  senses 
proclaimed  their  alertness  by  allowing  her  eyes  to  wander 
from  the  face  of  the  minister  and  fix  themselves  inquir 
ingly  over  his  shoulder  on  the  unembarrassed,  stolid  man 
at  the  door. 

"  Tell  her  not  to  mind  me,  Doc,"  interjected  Wyatt  in  a 
stuffy  voice.  At  the  same  time  an  exploratory  thumb 
brought  up  a  quill  from  a  vest  pocket,  and  the  deputy  be 
gan  with  entire  assurance  the  after-dinner  toilet  of  his 
teeth,  while  his  eyes  roamed  the  ceiling  and  the  tops  of 
the  bookcases  as  if  suddenly  oblivious  of  the  presence  of 
other  persons  in  the  room. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  minister  reassuringly,  "  we  will  not  be 
disturbed  by  Mr.  Wyatt's  presence.  He  is  merely  doing 
his  duty." 

"  You  are  —  ?  "  Mrs.  Burbeck  hesitated  with  an  upward 
inflection,  and  the  disagreeable  word  unuttered. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  minister  gravely,  his  inflection  fall 
ing  where  hers  had  risen.  "  I  am." 

"  Oh,  that  woman !  That  woman !  "  murmured  Mrs. 
Burbeck,  "  I  have  mistrusted  her  and  been  sorry  for  her 
all  at  once.  But  it  was  Rollie  that  I  feared  for." 

There  was  a  sigh  of  relief  that  was  as  near  to  an  exhi 
bition  of  selfishness  as  Mrs.  Burbeck  had  ever  approached; 
after  which,  mother-like,  she  lapsed  into  a  rhapsody  over 
her  son. 

"  Rollie,"  she  began,  in  doting  accents,  "  is  so  young,  so 
handsome,  so  responsive  to  beauty  of  any  sort;  so  ready  to 


334  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

believe  the  best  of  every  one.  I  feared  that  he  would  fall 
in  love  with  her  and  ruin  his  business  career  —  you  know 
how  these  theatrical  marriages  always  turn  out  —  or  that 
she  would  jilt  him  and  break  his  heart.  Rollie  has  such  a 
sensitive,  expansive  nature.  He  has  always  been  trusted 
so  widely  by  so  many  people.  Since  that  boy  has  grown 
up,  I  have  lived  my  whole  life  in  him.  Do  you  know," 
and  she  leaned  forward  and  lowered  her  voice  to  an  im 
pressive  and  exceedingly  intimate  note ;  "  it  seems  to  me 
that  if  anything  should  happen  to  Rollie,  it  would  crush 
me,  that  I  should  not  care  to  live, —  in  fact  should  not  be 
able  to  live." 

Tears  came  readily  to  the  limpid  pools  of  her  eyes,  and 
the  delicately  chiseled  lips  trembled,  though  they  bravely 
tried  to  smile. 

Hampstead  sat  regarding  her  thoughtfully,  love  and 
apprehension  mingling  upon  his  face.  It  suddenly  reoc- 
curred  to  him  with  compelling  force  that  the  most  awful 
cruelty  that  could  be  inflicted  would  be  for  this  delicate 
and  fragile  woman,  who  to-night  looked  more  like  an 
ambassadress  from  some  other  existence  than  a  thing  of 
flesh  and  blood,  to  know  the  truth  about  her  son.  Seeing 
her  thus  smiling  trustfully  through  her  mother-tears, 
thinking  of  all  that  her  sweet,  saint-like  confidences  had 
meant  to  him,  Hampstead  felt  a  mighty  resolve  growing 
stronger  and  stronger  within  him. 

But  for  once  Mrs.  Burbeck's  intuitions  were  not  sure, 
and  she  misconstrued  the  meaning  of  her  pastor's  silence. 

"  Forgive  me,"  she  pleaded  in  tones  of  self-reproach. 
"  Here  I  am  in  the  midst  of  your  trouble  babbling  of  my 
self  and  my  son.  Yet  that  is  like  a  mother.  She  never 
sees  a  young  man's  career  blighted  but  she  grows  sud 
denly  apprehensive  for  the  child  of  her  own  bosom. 
Now  that  feeling  comes  to  me  with  double  force.  I  love 
you  almost  as  a  son.  Consequently,  when  I  see  my  boy 


THE  ANGEL  ADVISES  335 

out  there  in  the  sun  of  life  mounting  so  buoyantly,  and 
you,  so  worthy  to  mount,  but  struggling  in  mid-flight 
under  a  cloud,  I  feel  a  mingling  of  two  painful  emotions. 
I  suffer  as  if  struck  upon  the  heart.  My  spirit  of  sym 
pathy  and  apprehension  rushes  me  to  you,  yet  when  I  get 
to  you,  my  doting  mother's  heart  makes  me  babble  first  of 
my  boy.  And  so,"  she  concluded,  with  an  apologetic 
smile,  "  you  see  how  weak  and  frail  and  egotistic  I  am, 
after  all." 

"  But,"  protested  Hampstead,  who  had  been  eager  to 
break  in,  "  my  career  is  not  blighted.  I  am  not  under  a 
cloud.  It  annoyed  me  to-night  upon  the  boat  and  train 
to  discover  how  suddenly  I  was  pilloried  by  my  enemies 
and  avoided  by  my  friends.  They  seem  to  take  it  for 
granted  that  I  am  already  smirched ;  that  to  me  the  sub 
ject  must  be  painful,  and  as  there  is  no  other  subject  to  be 
thought  of  at  the  moment,  hence  conversation  will  also  be 
painful.  Because  of  this  I  am  a  pariah,  to  be  shunned 
like  any  leper." 

With  rising  feeling,  the  young  minister  snatched  a 
breath  and  hurried  on. 

"  Now,  Mrs.  Burbeck,  I  do  not  feel  like  that  at  all.  I 
have  put  myself  in  the  way  of  sustaining  this  attack 
through  following  the  course  of  duty,  as  I  conceived  it. 
I  need  not  assure  you  that  I  am  innocent  of  a  vulgar  thing 
like  burglary.  I  need  not  assure  the  public.  It  is  impos 
sible  that  they  should  believe  it.  Nevertheless,  I  have 
seen  enough  in  the  papers  to-night  to  show  how  they  will 
revel  at  seeing  me  enmeshed  in  the  toils  of  circumstance. 
To  them  it  is  a  rare  spectacle.  Very  well,  let  it  be  a 
spectacle.  It  is  one  in  which  I  shall  triumph.  I  propose 
to  fight.  I  feel  like  fighting."  His  fist  was  clenched  and 
came  down  upon  the  arm  of  his  chair,  and  his  voice, 
though  still  low,  was  full  of  vibrant  power. 

"  I  feel  that  I  have  the  right  to  call  upon  every  friend, 


336  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

upon  every  member  of  All  People's,  upon  every  believer  in 
those  things  for  which  I  have  fought  in  this  community, 
to  rally  to  my  side  to  fight  shoulder  to  shoulder  in  the 
battle  to  repel  what  in  effect  is  an  assault  not  upon  me, 
but  upon  the  things  for  which  I  stand." 

Mrs.  Burbeck's  expressive  eyes  were  floating  full  with  a 
look  that  verged  from  sympathy  toward  pity. 

"  You  will  have  to  be  a  very  expert  tactician,"  she  said 
soberly,  drawing  on  those  fountains  of  ripe  wisdom,  so 
full  at  times  that  they  seemed  to  mount  toward  inspira 
tion;  "if  you  are  to  make  the  public  think  of  your  em 
barrassment  in  that  way.  It  is  going  to  look  at  this  as  a 
disgraceful  personal  entanglement  of  a  minister  with  an 
actress ! " 

Hampstead  writhed  in  his  chair.  Nothing  but  the 
depth  of  his  consideration  for  Mrs.  Burbeck  kept  him 
from  exclaiming  vehemently  against  what  he  deemed  the 
enormous  injustice  of  this  assumption. 

"She's  right,  Doc;  right's  your  left  leg,"  sounded  a 
throaty  voice,  which  startled  the  two  of  them  into  remem 
bering  that  they  were  not  alone. 

"  Why,  Wyatt !  "  exclaimed  the  minister  reprovingly, 
turning  sharply  on  the  deputy. 

"  Excuse  me,  Doc,"  Wyatt  mumbled  abjectly.  "  I  just 
thought  that  out  loud.  All  the  same,  she's  wisin'  you  up 
to  somethin'  if  you'll  let  'er.  Some  of  these  old  dames 
that  ain't  got  nothin'  to  do  but  just  set  and  think  gets  hep 
to  a  lot  of  things  that  a  hustlin'  man  overlooks." 

Hampstead  was  disgusted. 

"  Don't  interrupt  us  again,  please,  Wyatt,"  he  ob 
served,  combining  dignity  and  rebuke  in  his  utterance. 

But  Wyatt,  influenced  no  doubt  by  the  look  almost  of 
fright  on  Mrs.  Burbeck's  face,  was  already  in  apologetic 
mood. 

"  Say,"  he  mumbled  contritely,   "  you're  right,  Doc. 


THE  ANGEL  ADVISES  337 

I'm  so  sorry  for  the  break  that,  orders  or  no  orders,  I'll 
just  step  out  in  the  hall  while  you  finish.  But  all  the 
same,  you  listen  to  her,"  and  he  indicated  the  disturbed 
and  slightly  offended  Mrs.  Burbeck  with  a  stab  of  a  tooth 
pick  in  the  air,  "  and  she'll  tell  you  somethin'  that's  use 
ful." 

"  Thank  you  very  much,  Wyatt,"  replied  the  minister 
in  noncommittal  tones,  but  with  a  sigh  of  relief  as  the 
deputy  withdrew  from  the  room. 

Yet  he  had  a  growing  sense  of  depression.  Wyatt's 
boorish,  croaking  interruption  had  thrown  him  out  of 
poise.  Mrs.  Burbeck's  exaggerated  sense  of  the  gravity 
of  the  matter  weighed  him  down  like  lead,  and  the  more 
because  an  inner  voice,  sounding  faintly  and  from  far 
away,  but  with  significance  unmistakable,  seemed  to  tell 
him  her  view  was  right.  Nevertheless,  his  whole  soul 
rose  in  protest.  It  ought  not  to  be  right.  It  was  a  gross 
travesty  on  justice  and  on  popular  good  sense. 

Mrs.  Burbeck,  looking  at  him  fixedly,  noted  this 
change  in  spirit  and  the  conflict  of  emotions  which  re 
sulted.  Reaching  out  impulsively  she  touched  the  large 
hand  of  the  man  where  it  lay  upon  the  desk. 

"  I  feared  you  would  take  it  too  lightly,"  she  reflected. 
"  Youth  always  does  that.  For  this  world  about  you  to 
turn  and  gnash  you  is  mere  human  nature,  which  it  is  your 
business  to  understand.  Has  it  never  occurred  to  you 
that  the  same  voices  who  upon  Sunday  cried  out :  '  Ho- 
sannah,  Hosannah  to  the  son  of  David!'  upon  Friday 
shouted:  'Away  with  him!  Crucify  him!  Crucify 
him!' 

"  But  I  am  innocent,"  Hampstead  protested,  though 
weakly. 

"  And  so  was  He,"  Mrs.  Burbeck  replied  simply. 

"  But  He  was  worthy  to  suffer.  I  am  not,"  murmured 
Hampstead  humbly. 


338  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  Sometimes,"  suggested  the  sweet-voiced  woman, 
"  suffering  makes  us  worthy." 

"  But,"  affirmed  the  minister,  his  fighting  spirit  coming 
back  to  him,  "  I  can  prove  my  innocence !  " 

The  face  of  Mrs.  Burbeck  lighted.  "  Then  you  must," 
she  said  decisively.  "  You  give  me  hope  when  you  say 
that.  It  was  to  tell  you  that  I  came,  fearful  that  you 
would  rely  upon  the  public  to  assume  your  innocence  until 
your  guilt  was  proven.  Alas,  they  are  more  likely  to  as 
sume  the  contrary,  to  hold  you  guilty  until  you  prove 
yourself  innocent." 

"  I  have  been  made  to  see  that  already,"  replied  Hamp- 
stead.  "  At  first,  no  doubt,  I  did  underestimate  the 
gravity  of  the  situation.  You  have  helped  me  to  appraise 
its  dangers  more  accurately." 

But  Mrs.  Burbeck  had  more  important  advice  to  give. 

"  Yes,"  she  went  on  half -musingly,  because  tactfulness 
appeared  to  suggest  that  form  of  utterance,  "  you  will 
have  to  vindicate  yourself  absolutely.  It  is  a  practical 
situation.  The  danger  is  not  that  you  will  be  convicted 
and  sent  to  jail.  Nobody  believes  that,  I  should  say. 
The  danger  is  that  a  question-mark  will  be  permanently 
attached  to  your  name  and  character.  The  Reverend 
John  Hampstead,  interrogation  point!  Is  he  a  thief,  or 
not?  Did  he  compromise  himself,  or  not?  Is  he  weak, 
or  not?  This  is  the  thing  to  fear,  the  thing  that  would 
condemn  you  and  brand  you  as  stripes  brand  a  convict." 

For  a  tense,  reflective  moment  the  minister's  lips  had 
grown  dry  and  bloodless;  and  then  he  confessed  grudg 
ingly  :  "  I  begin  to  see  that  you  are  right." 

"  You  should  begin  your  defense  by  a  counter-attack," 
Mrs,  Burbeck  continued,  feeling  that  the  man  was  suffi 
ciently  aroused  now  to  appreciate  the  importance  of  vigor 
ous  defensive  actions.  "  Declare  your  disbelief  that  the 
diamonds  have  actually  been  stolen.  Get  out  a  warrant  of 


THE  ANGEL  ADVISES  339 

search,  and  you  will  probably  find  them  now  concealed 
among  her  effects.  At  any  rate  this  counter-search  would 
hold  the  public  verdict  in  suspense;  and  it  would  be  like 
your  well-known  aggressive  personality.  If  the  search 
fails  to  reveal  them,  if  her  diamonds  really  are  stolen, 
your  complete  vindication  must  depend  upon  the  capture 
and  exposure  of  the  real  thief." 

Hampstead  wiped  his  moist  brow  nervously.  It  was 
uncannily  terrible  that  this  woman  of  all  persons  in  the 
world  should  say  this  to  him.  However,  he  had  suf 
ficient  presence  of  mind  to  urge : 

"  But  how  unjust  to  force  a  contract  like  that  upon 


me." 


"  It  is  unjust,"   admitted  the  Angel   of   the   Chair. 

'  Yet  the  innocent  often  suffer  injustice,  and  you  must 

realize  that  you  are  not  immune.     That  is  your  only 

course,  and  I  came  specifically  to  warn  you  of  it.     Prove 

there  was  no  theft,  or  get  the  thief !  " 

There  was  snap  and  sparkle  in  Mrs.  Burbeck's  eyes. 
Despite  her  physical  frailty,  her  spirit  was  stout,  and  her 
conviction  so  forcefully  conveyed  that  the  minister  de 
livered  himself  of  a  gesture  of  utter  helplessness. 

"  I  cannot  do  either,"  he  said,  half -whispering  his 
desperation.  "  Yet  I  think  I  appreciate  better  than  you 
how  sound  your  advice  has  been.  But  there  are  reasons 
that  I  cannot  give  you,  that  I  cannot  give  to  any  one,  why 
the  course  which  you  suggest  cannot  be  followed.  I  must 
go  another  way  to  vindication;  but,"  and  his  voice  rose 
buoyantly,  "  I  will  go  and  I  will  get  it." 

Mrs.  Burbeck  received  with  misgivings  her  pastor's 
complete  rejection  of  the  advice  she  had  offered,  yet  some 
unconscious  force  in  the  young  minister's  manner  swept 
her  on  quickly  against  her  judgment  and  her  will  to  an 
enormous  increase  of  faith,  both  in  the  strength  and  the 
judgment  of  the  man.  As  for  Hampstead,  he  concluded 


340  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

his  rejection  by  doing  something  he  had  never  done  be 
fore.  That  was  to  lean  low,  his  face  chiseled  in  lines  of 
gravity  and  devotion,  and  taking  the  delicate  hand  of  Mrs. 
Burbeck,  that  in  its  weakness  was  like  a  drooping  flower, 
lift  it  to  his  lips  and  kiss  it. 

"  Conserve  all  your  spirit,"  he  said  solemnly,  still  cling 
ing  tenderly  to  the  hand.  "  It  may  be  that  I  shall  have  to 
lean  heavily  upon  you." 

"  You  may  have  my  life  to  the  uttermost,"  she  breathed 
trustfully,  never  dreaming  the  thought  unthinkable  which 
the  words  suggested  to  her  pastor  and  friend.  But  an 
extraneous  idea  came  pressing  in,  and  Mrs.  Burbeck 
raised  toward  the  minister,  in  a  gesture  of  appeal,  the 
hand  his  lips  had  just  been  pressing,  as  she  pleaded: 
"  And  do  not  think  too  hardly  of  the  woman.  She  loves 
you." 

"  Loves  me !  "  protested  Hampstead,  with  a  ghastly 
hoarseness.  "  The  woman  is  incapable  of  love  —  of  pas 
sion  even.  She  is  all  fire,  but  without  heat  —  though 
once  she  had  it.  She  is  a  mere  blaze  of  ambition.  All 
she  cared  for  was  to  bring  me  to  my  knees,  to  dangle  me 
like  a  scalp  at  her  waist." 

Mrs.  Burbeck  steadied  him  with  a  glance  from  a  mind 
unimpressed. 

"  Be  sorry,  very  sorry  for  her !  "  she  insisted  gravely. 
"  Acquit  yourself  of  no  impatience  —  not  even  a  reproach 
ful  look,  if  you  can  help  it.  She  is  to  be  pitied.  Only 
the  malice  of  unsated  love  could  do  what  she  has  done. 
Show  yourself  noble  enough,  Christ-like  enough,  to  be 
very,  very  sorry  for  her !  " 

"  We  got  to  go  if  we  get  there  by  nine! " 

It  was  the  smothered  voice  of  Wyatt,  calling  through 
the  door. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

THE   SCENE   IN    THE  VAULT 

SILAS  WADHAM,  mine-owner;  William  Hayes,  mer 
chant,  and  E.  H.  Wilson,  capitalist,  subscribed  to  Hamp- 
stead's  bond.  Each  was  a  big  man  in  his  way ;  each  had 
unbounded  faith  in  the  integrity  and  good  sense  of  the 
minister.  They  were  not  men  to  be  swept  off  their  feet 
by  mere  surface  currents.  They  laughed  a  little  and  ral 
lied  John  upon  his  plight,  yet  he  knew  somehow  by  the 
bend  of  the  jaw  when  they  dipped  their  pens  in  ink  and 
with  clamped  lips  subscribed  their  signatures,  that  these 
men  were  his  unshakably.  , 

One  circumstance  might  have  seemed  strange.  None 
of  them  were  members  of  All  People's.  Yet  this  was  not 
because  there  were  not  men  in  All  People's  who  would 
have  qualified  as  unhesitatingly;  but  because  John  had  a 
feeling  that  he  was  being  assailed  as  a  community  char 
acter  rather  than  as  a  clerical  one. 

Within  ten  minutes  the  formalities  in  Judge  Brennan's 
chamber  were  concluded,  Hampstead  was  free,  but  as  he 
turned  to  Searle  waiting  suavely,  backed  by  the  suggestive 
presence  of  the  two  detectives,  there  came  suddenly  into 
his  mind  the  memory  that  Rollie  Burbeck's  I.  O.  U.  for 
eleven  hundred  dollars  was  in  his  safe  deposit  box  in  the 
envelope  marked  "  Wadham  Currency."  This  was  a 
chaos-producing  thought.  If  Searle  once  got  an  eye  on 
that  card,  it  would  start  innumerable  trains  of  suspicion, 
each  of  which  must  center  on  the  young  bank  cashier.  In 
his  present  state,  that  boy  was  too  weak  to  resist  pres- 


342  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

sure  of  any  sort.  He  would  crumble  and  go  to  pieces. 
And  yet,  it  was  not  the  thought  of  the  exposure  and  ruin 
of  this  spoiled  young  man  that  moved  Hampstead  to  an 
other  of  those  acts  which  only  riveted  the  chains  of  sus 
picion  more  tightly  upon  himself.  It  was  the  vision  of 
the  mother  who  only  an  hour  before  had  murmured 
tremulously:  "If  anything  should  happen  to  him,  I 
should  not  be  able  to  live." 

"  Searle !  "  exclaimed  the  minister  passionately.  "  You 
must  not  proceed  with  this.  If  you  are  a  man  of  any 
heart,  you  will  not  persist  against  my  pleadings.  I  tell 
you  frankly  there  are  secrets  in  that  box  which,  while  they 
would  do  you  no  good,  could  be  used  to  ruin  innocent  men 
—  guilty  ones,  too,  perhaps;  but  the  innocent  with  the 
guilty." 

Hampstead  was  speaking  hoarsely,  his  voice  raised  and 
trembling  with  an  excitement  and  lack  of  nerve  control 
he  had  never  exhibited  before  in  public. 

The  prosecutor's  face  pictured  surprise  and  even  gloat 
ing,  but  his  eyes  expressed  a  purpose  unshaken. 

"  Confidences  in  my  possession  must  be  respected," 
Hampstead  went  on,  arguing  vehemently.  "  The  confi 
dences  of  a  patient  to  his  physician,  of  a  penitent  to  his 
priest,  are  respected  by  the  law.  Because  some  of  these 
confidences  happen  to  be  in  writing,  you  have  no  right  to 
violate  them." 

"  And  I  tell  you  I  have  no  intention  to  violate  them," 
Searle  returned  testily.  "  My  order  is  a  warrant  of 
search  for  a  diamond  necklace." 

"  And  I  tell  you  I  will  not  respect  the  order  of  the 
court,"  blazed  the  minister.  "  You  shall  not  examine  the 
box!" 

Judge  Mortimer  was  startled;  the  bondsmen,  although 
surprised  by  the  minister's  show  of  feeling,  were  sym 
pathetic. 


THE  SCENE  IN  THE  VAULT  343 

"  I  do  not  care  whether  you  consent  or  not,"  Searle  re 
joined  sarcastically.  "  I  have  the  key,  and  I  have  the 
order  of  court,  which  the  vault  custodian  must  respect.  I 
have  done  you  the  courtesy  to  meet  you  here  so  that  you 
might  be  present  when  the  box  was  examined.  You  must 
be  beside  yourself  to  suppose  that  I  can  be  swayed  from 
my  duty,  even  temporarily,  by  an  appeal  like  this/' 

"  I  think,  Doctor,  you  should  have  the  advice  of  your 
attorney  on  this,"  suggested  Mr.  Wilson  considerately; 
and  then  turning  to  the  Assistant  District  Attorney,  ob 
served  sharply :  "  It  seems  to  me,  Searle,  that  this  is 
rather  a  high-handed  procedure." 

But  this  remark  of  the  practical  Mr.  Wilson  had  an  in 
stantly  calming  effect  upon  the  minister. 

"  No,  no,"  Hampstead  exclaimed,  turning  to  his  friend; 
"  I  do  not  want  an  attorney.  I  do  not  need  an  attorney. 
I  should  only  be  misunderstood.  It  is  the  thought  of 
what  might  result  to  innocent  people  through  an  examina 
tion  of  this  box  that  stirs  me  so  deeply." 

"  All  the  same,  I  think  we  had  better  have  an  attorney 
immediately,"  declared  Wilson.  "  I  can  send  my  car  for 
Bowen  and  have  him  here  in  fifteen  minutes." 

"  An  attorney,"  commented  Searle  brusquely,  "  could  do 
nothing  except  to  get  an  order  from  a  Superior  Court 
judge  enjoining  the  bank  from  obeying  the  search  war 
rant  of  this  court.  He  would  be  lucky  if,  at  this  time  of 
night,  he  caught  a  judge  and  got  that  under  two  or  three 
hours.  I  will  be  in  that  box  in  five  minutes.  Come 
along,  if  you  want  to." 

Searle  moved  toward  the  door,  followed  by  the  two  de 
tectives,  his  purpose  perfectly  plain;  yet  the  minister  hung 
back,  for  the  first  time  so  confused  by  entangling  develop 
ments  that  he  could  not  see  where  to  put  his  foot  down 
next. 

"  I  think,  Doctor  Hampstead,"  advised  Mr.  Wadham 


344  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

kindly,  "  that  since  the  District  Attorney  has  matters  in 
his  own  hands,  you  had  better  go  with  him  and  witness  the 
search.  If  you  do  not  object,  we  shall  be  glad  to  accom 
pany  you.  Our  presence  may  prove  helpful  later." 

Because  his  mind  ran  forward  in  an  absorbed  attempt  to 
forecast  and  forestall  the  probable  developments  from  the 
impending  discovery  of  the  clue  against  Rollie,  the  min 
ister  still  paused,  until  his  silence  became  as  conspicuous  as 
his  inaction. 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes,"  he  exclaimed,  suddenly  aware  of  the 
waiting  group  about  him.  "  Yes,  by  all  means,  go  with 
me.  What  we  must  face,  we  must  face,"  he  concluded 
desperately,  with  an  uneasy  inner  intimation  that  he  was 
saying  .perhaps  the  wrong  thing.  Yet  with  the  vision  of 
Mrs.  Burbeck's  saintly,  smiling  face  before  him,  Hamp- 
stead,  usually  so  calm  and  self-controlled,  had  little  care 
what  he  said  or  how  he  said  it  so  long  as  his  mind  was 
busy  with  some  plan  to  fend  off  this  frightful  blow  from 
her. 

Mr.  Wadham  was  a  man  of  mature  years  and  fatherly 
ways.  He  took  the  young  minister's  arm  affectionately  in 
his,  and  urged  him  forward  in  the  wake  of  Searle,  who 
had  already  moved  out  into  the  wide  hall  accompanied 
by  the  two  plain-clothes  men.  Hayes  and  Wilson,  still 
sympathetic,  but  no  longer  quite  comprehending  the  undue 
excitement  of  the  young  divine  in  whose  integrity  their 
confidence  was  so  great,  fell  in  behind. 

Once  before  the  custodian  of  the  vault,  another  evidence 
of  the  thought  fulness  of  Searle  appeared.  John  R.  Cos- 
tello,  attorney  of  the  bank,  was  conveniently  on  hand  to 
read  the  warrant  of  the  court  and  to  instruct  the  custodian 
of  the  vault  upon  whom  it  was  served  that  it  was  in  proper 
form  and  must  be  obeyed. 

Because  the  number  of  witnesses  was  too  large  to  be 
accommodated  in  the  rooms  provided  for  customers,  the 


THE  SCENE  IN  THE  VAULT  345 

inspection  of  the  minister's  box  was  made  upon  a  table  in 
the  vault  room  itself.  In  the  group  of  onlookers,  Hamp- 
stead,  because  of  his  commanding  figure,  his  remarkable 
face,  and  his  very  natural  interest  in  the  proceedings,  was 
the  most  conspicuous  presence.  As  naturally  as  all  eyes 
centered  on  the  box,  just  so  they  kept  breaking  away  at  in 
tervals  to  scan  the  face  of  the  big  man  who  stood  before 
them  in  an  attitude  of  embarrassed  helplessness.  He  was 
obviously  making  a  considerable  effort  to  control  himself. 
Only  Searle  was  sure  that  he  understood  this.  But  at  the 
same  moment,  two  of  the  bondsmen,  the  kind-hearted 
Wadham  and  the  shrewd,  practical  Wilson,  appeared  to 
observe  this  attitude  and  to  detect  its  significance.  They 
exchanged  questioning  glances,  and  were  further  mystified 
when  for  a  single  moment  a  look  of  confident  reassurance 
flickered  like  the  play  of  a  sunbeam  upon  the  face  of  the 
minister. 

That  was  in  his  one  selfish  moment,  when  he  recalled 
how  the  search  of  the  box,  after  all  these  excessive  pre 
cautions  of  the  District  Attorney's  office,  could  only  recoil 
upon  their  case  like  a  boomerang;  but  his  countenance 
shaded  again  to  an  expression  of  anxious  helplessness  as 
Searle  paused  dramatically  a  moment  with  his  hand  upon 
the  box.  Then  the  hand  lifted  the  hinged  cover,  reveal 
ing  the  contents. 

As  if  from  a  nervous  eagerness  to  come  quickly  at  the 
object  of  his  search,  the  Assistant  District  Attorney  turned 
the  box  upside  down  and  emptied  its  contents  on  the  table ; 
and  yet,  when  this  was  done,  nothing  appeared  but  papers. 

Searle  attempted  to  open  none  of  them.  Proceeding 
with  deliberate  care,  as  if  to  vindicate  himself  in  the  eyes 
of  the  bondsmen  from  the  suspicion  of  the  minister  that  he 
might  be  on  a  "  fishing  expedition  ",  he  merely  took  up 
each  piece  singly  and  precisely,  felt  it  over  with  his  long, 
thin  fingers  and  laid  it  by,  until  at  length  but  two  envelopes 


346  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

remained.  The  first  of  these  was  long  and  empty  looking 
and  gave  evidence  that  the  flap  had  been  rudely,  if  not 
hastily,  torn  open.  Searle  held  it  in  his  hand  now. 

Hampstead's  heart  stood  still;  he  knew  that  this  must 
be  the  envelope  which  had  contained  the  Wadham  cur 
rency,  hence  between  this  attorney's  thumb  and  forefinger, 
screened  by  one  thickness  of  paper,  lay  the  card  that  was 
the  clue  to  Rollie  Burbeck's  crime.  But  the  moment  of 
suspense  passed. 

Submitting  it  to  the  same  inquisitive  finger  manipula 
tion  as  the  others,  yet  not  looking  within  it  nor  turning  it 
over  to  read  what  might  be  written  on  the  face,  Searle 
laid  the  Wadham  envelope  on  the  pile  of  discards. 

"  Thank  God,"  gulped  Hampstead,  yet  with  utterance 
so  inchoate  that  Hayes,  the  third  bondsman,  standing 
nearest,  did  not  catch  the  words,  but  a  few  minutes  later, 
discussing  the  matter  with  Wilson,  said :  "  I  heard  the 
apprehensive  rattle  in  his  throat  just  before  Searle  came 
to  that  last  envelope." 

But  in  the  meantime,  Hampstead  was  asking  himself 
suspiciously  what  was  this  last  envelope?  He  thought 
he  knew  by  heart  every  separate  document  that  was  in  the 
box,  and  he  could  not  recall  what  this  might  be. 

"  You  must  be  convinced  by  now,"  argued  Searle,  as  if 
deliberately  heightening  the  suspense,  while  he  turned  a 
straight  glance  upon  the  minister,  "  that  I  had  no  object 
in  inspecting  the  contents  of  this  box  except  to  search  for 
the  diamonds." 

"  And  you  have  not  found  them!  " 

This  was  obviously  the  remark  which  should  have  come 
in  triumphant,  challenging  tones  from  the  minister.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  it  came  quietly,  and  with  a  sigh  of  relief, 
from  Silas  Wadham. 

The  minister  did  not  speak  at  all,  did  not  even  raise  his 
eyes  to  meet  the  glance  of  Searle.  His  gaze  was  fixed  as 


THE  SCENE  IN  THE  VAULT  347 

his  mind  was  fascinated  by  the  mystery  of  the  last  lone  en 
velope. 

"  Not  yet,"  replied  Searle  significantly  to  Wadham's 
interjection,  but  instead  of  disappointment  there  was  that 
quality  in  his  tones  which  heightens  and  intensifies  ex 
pectancy.  At  the  same  time  he  took  up  the  envelope  by 
one  end,  but,  under  the  weight  of  something  within,  the 
paper  bent  surprisingly  in  the  middle  and  the  lower  end 
swung  pendant  and  baglike,  accompanied  by  the  slightest 
perceptible  metallic  sound.  Every  member  of  the  group 
of  witnesses  leaned  forward  with  an  involuntary  start. 
Triumph  flooded  the  face  of  Searle.  With  his  left  hand 
he  seized  the  heavy,  bag-like  end  and  raised  it  while  the 
envelope  was  turned  in  his  fingers  bringing  into  view  the 
printing  in  the  corner. 

"  This  envelope  bears  the  name  and  address  of  the 
Reverend  John  Hampstead,"  he  announced  in  formal 
tones.  "  I  now  open  it  in  your  presence." 

Nervously  the  Assistant  District  Attorney  tore  off  the 
end  of  the  envelope,  squinted  within,  and  exclaimed :  "It 
contains — "  His  voice  halted  for  an  instant  while  he 
dramatically  tipped  the  envelope  toward  the  table  and  a 
string  of  fire  flowed  out  and  lay  quivering  before  the  eyes 
of  all  — "  the  Dounay  diamonds !  " 

The  jewels,  trembling  under  the  impulse  of  the  move 
ment  by  which  they  had  been  deposited  upon  the  table, 
sparkled  as  if  with  resentful  brilliance  at  having  been  thus 
darkly  immured,  and  for  an  appreciable  interval  they  com 
pelled  the  attention  of  all ;  then  every  eye  was  turned  upon 
the  accused  minister. 

But  these  inquisitorial  glances  came  too  late.  Amaze 
ment,  bewilderment,  a  sense  of  outrage,  and  hot  indigna 
tion,  had  been  reeled  across  the  screen  of  his  features; 
but  that  was  in  the  ticking  seconds  while  the  gaze  of  all 
was  on  the  envelope  and  then  upon  the  diamonds  and  their 


348  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

aggressive  scintillations.  Now  the  curious  eyes  rested 
upon  a  man  who,  after  a  moment  in  which  to  think,  had 
visioned  himself  surrounded  and  overwhelmed  by  circum 
stances  that  were  absolutely  damning, —  his  own  conduct 
of  the  last  few  minutes  the  most  damning  of  all.  His 
face  was  as  white  as  the  paper  of  the  envelope  which  con 
tained  the  irrefutable  evidence.  His  eyes  revolved  un 
certainly  and  then  went  questioningly  from  face  to  face  in 
the  circle  round  him  as  if  for  confirmation  of  the  con 
clusion  to  which  the  logic  of  his  own  mind  forced  him 
irresistibly.  In  not  one  was  that  confirmation  wanting. 

"  But,"  he  protested  wildly,  and  then  his  glance  broke 
down.  "  It  has  come,"  he  murmured  hoarsely,  covering 
his  face  with  his  hands.  "  It  has  come !  " 

His  cross  had  come ! 

Some  odd,  disastrous  chain  of  sequences  which  he  had 
not  yet  had  time  to  reason  out  had  fixed  this  crime  on 
him.  By  another  equally  disastrous  chain  of  sequences, 
he  must  bear  its  guilt  or  be  false  to  his  confessor's  vow. 
Especially  must  he  bear  it,  if  he  would  shield  that  doting 
mother  who  trusted  him  and  loved  him. 

As  if  to  hold  himself  together,  he  clasped  his  arms  be 
fore  him,  and  his  chin  sunk  forward  on  his  breast.  As  if 
to  accustom  his  mind  to  the  new  view  from  which  he  must 
look  out  upon  the  world,  he  closed  his  eyes.  The  heaving 
chest,  the  tense  jaws,  the  quivering  lips,  and  the  mop  of 
hair  that  fell  disheveled  round  his  temples,  all  combined  to 
make  up  the  convincing  picture  of  a  strong  man  breaking. 

Not  one  of  those  present,  crass  or  sympathetic,  but  felt 
himself  the  witness  to  a  tragedy  in  which  a  man  of  noble 
aspirations  had  been  overtaken  and  hopelessly  crushed  by 
an  ingrained  weakness  which  had  expressed  itself  in  sordid 
crime. 

Even  the  hard  face  of  Searle  softened.  With  the  dia 
monds  gleaming  where  they  lay,  he  began  mechanically  to 


THE  SCENE  IN  THE  VAULT  349 

replace  the  contents  of  the  box.  But  at  the  first  sound  of 
rustling  papers,  the  minister  appeared  to  rouse  again.  He 
had  stood  all  alone.  No  one  had  touched  him.  No  one 
had  addressed  him.  The  most  indifferent  in  this  circle 
were  stricken  dumb  by  the  spectacle  of  his  fall,  while  his 
friends  were  almost  as  much  appalled  and  dazed  as  he  him 
self  appeared  to  be. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  said  with  melancholy  interest,  at  the 
same  time  moving  round  the  table  to  the  box,  "  that  I  may 
take  it  now." 

"  Certainly,  Doctor,"  replied  Searle  suavely,  yielding 
his  place.  Nevertheless,  there  was  a  slight  expression  of 
surprise  upon  his  face,  as  upon  those  of  the  others,  at  the 
minister's  sudden  revival  of  concern  in  what  must  now 
be  an  utterly  trifling  detail  so  far  as  his  own  future  went. 
Hampstead  appeared  to  perceive  this. 

"  There  are  sacred  responsibilities  here,"  he  explained 
gravely,  with  a  halting  utterance  that  proclaimed  the  deeps 
that  heaved  within  him ;  "  which,  strange  as  it  may  seem  to 
you  gentlemen,  even  at  such  an  hour  I  would  not  like  to 
forget." 

Taking  up  a  handful  of  the  papers,  he  ran  them  through 
his  fingers,  his  eye  pausing  for  a  moment  to  scan  each  one 
of  them,  and  his  expression  kindling  with  first  one  memory 
and  then  another,  as  if  he  found  a  mournful  satisfaction 
in  recalling  past  days  when  many  a  man  and  woman  had 
found  peace  for  their  souls  in  making  him  the  sharer  in 
their  heart-burdens, —  days  which  every  member  of  that 
little  circle  felt  instinctively  were  now  gone  forever. 

Last  of  all  his  eye  checked  itself  upon  the  envelope 
marked  "  Wadham  Currency."  Allowing  the  other 
papers  to  slip  back  to  their  place  in  the  box  the  minister 
turned  his  glance  into  the  open  side  of  this  remaining  en 
velope.  It  was  empty,  save  for  a  card  tucked  in  the 
corner. 


350  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  This  thing  appears  to  have  served  its  purpose,"  he 
commented  absently,  as  if  talking  to  himself.  Then  casu 
ally  he  tore  the  envelope  across,  and  then  again  and  again ; 
finer  and  finer;  yet  not  so  fine  as  to  excite  suspicion. 
Looking  for  a  wastebasket  and  finding  none,  he  was  about 
to  drop  the  fragments  in  his  coat  pocket. 

"  I  will  take  them,"  said  the  vault  custodian,  holding  out 
his  hand.  To  it  the  minister  unhesitatingly  committed  the 
shredded  envelope  and  card  which  contained  the  only 
documentary  clue  to  any  other  person  than  himself  as  the 
thief  of  the  Dounay  diamonds.  A  few  minutes  later,  this 
clue  was  in  the  wastebasket  outside.  The  next  morning  it 
was  in  the  furnace. 

The  group  in  the  vault  room  broke  away  with  dis 
pirited  slowness,  as  mourners  turn  from  the  freshly  heaped 
earth.  Behind  all  the  minister  lingered,  as  if  unwilling  to 
leave  the  presence  of  his  dead  reputation. 

But  the  man's  appearance  somewhat  belied  his  mood. 
He  was  thinking  swiftly.  This  was  no  uncommon  plot 
which  had  overtaken  him.  It  was  conceived  in  craft  and 
laid  with  power  to  kill.  The  diabolical  cunning  of  the 
scheme  was  that  it  forced  him  to  be  silent  or  to  be  a  traitor. 
The  indications  were  that  he  had  been  betrayed  out 
rageously;  but  he  did  not  know  this  positively,  therefore 
he  could  venture  no  defense  at  all  against  this  black  array 
of  circumstances.  It  might  be  only  some  terrible  mistake, 
and  for  him  to  venture  more  now  than  the  most  general 
denial  might  bring  about  the  very  calamities  he  was  trying 
to  avert.  He  dared  not  even  tell  the  truth :  that  he  did 
not  know  the  diamonds  were  in  the  box.  Especially,  he 
dared  not  say  that  he  did  not  put  them  there. 

For  the  first  time  an  emotion  like  fear  entered  his  soul, 
but  it  passed  the  moment  the  priestly  ardor  in  him  saw 
which  way  his  duty  lay.  If  Rollie  had  grossly  sold  him 
into  the  power  of  the  actress  at  the  price  of  his  own  es- 


THE  SCENE  IN  THE  VAULT  351 

cape,  he  felt  more  sorry  for  the  poor  wretch  than  before. 
He  was  glad  that  he  had  destroyed  the  I.  O.  U.,  discovery 
of  which  might  have  incriminated  the  young  man  help 
lessly,  and  he  resolved  to  continue  upon  his  mission  as  a 
saviour,  even  though  he  himself  were  lost.  It  suddenly 
occurred  to  him  with  doubling  force  that  this  was  what  it 
meant  to  be  a  saviour. 

With  this  conviction  firmly  in  his  mind,  Hampstead 
turned  to  Wilson,  Wadham,  and  Hayes,  who  had  been 
waiting  in  considerate  silence,  and  led  the  way  upward  to 
the  dimly  lighted  lobby  of  the  bank,  feeling  himself  grow 
stronger  with  every  step  he  mounted ;  for  the  maze  of  com 
plexities  in  which  he  found  himself  had  quickly  reduced 
itself  to  the  simple  duty  of  being  true  to  trust.  Eternal 
Loyalty  was  again  to  be  the  price  of  success. 

As  his  friends  gathered  about  him  on  the  upper  floor  for 
a  word  of  conference,  they  were  astonished  at  the  change 
in  his  expression.  It  was  calm  and  even  confident ;  while 
a  kind  of  spiritual  radiance  suffused  his  features. 

"  My  friends,"  the  minister  began  in  an  even  voice,  that 
nevertheless  was  full  of  the  echo  of  deep  feeling,  "  I  can 
offer  you  no  explanation  of  the  scene  to  which  you  have 
just  been  witnesses.  It  is  almost  inevitable  that  you 
should  think  me  guilty  or  criminally  culpable.  I  am 
neither!"  The  affirmation  was  made  as  if  to  acquit  his 
conscience,  rather  than  as  if  to  be  expected  to  be  believed. 

"  But,"  and  his  utterance  became  incisive,  "  there  is 
nothing  to  that  effect  which  can  be  said  now." 

"  Something  had  better  be  said  now,"  blurted  out  the 
practical  Wilson  flatly,  "  or  this  story  in  the  morning 
papers  will  damn  you  as  black  as  tar." 

"  Not  one  word,"  declared  the  minister  with  quiet  em 
phasis,  "  can  be  spoken  now !  " 

In  Hampstead's  bearing  there  was  a  notable  return  of 
that  subtle  power  of  man  mastery  which  had  been  so  im- 


352  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

portant  an  element  in  his  success.  Before  this  even  the 
aggressive,  outspoken  Wilson  was  silent;  but  the  three 
men  stood  regarding  John  with  an  air  at  once  sympathetic 
and  doubtful.  They  were  also  expectant,  for  it  was  evi 
dent  from  the  minister's  manner  that  he  was  deliberating 
whether  he  might  not  take  them  at  least  a  little  way  into 
his  confidence. 

"  Only  this  much  I  can  indicate,"  he  volunteered  pres 
ently.  "  A  part  of  what  has  happened  I  understand  very 
clearly.  A  part  I  do  not  understand  at  all.  In  the  mean 
time,  some  one,  but  not  myself,  is  in  jeopardy.  Until  the 
confusion  is  cleared,  or  until  I  can  see  better  what  to  do 
than  I  see  now,  I  can  do  nothing  but  rest  under  the  cir 
cumstances  which  you  have  seen  enmesh  me  to-night.  Of 
course,  it  is  impossible  that  such  a  monstrous  injustice 
can  long  continue.  I  hold  the  power  to  clear  myself 
instantly,  but  it  is  a  power  I  cannot  use  without  vio 
lating  the  most  sacred  obligation  a  minister  can  assume. 
I  will  not  violate  it.  I  must  insist  that  not  one  single  word 
which  I  have  just  hinted  to  you  be  given  to  the  public. 
Silence,  absolute  and  unwavering  silence,  is  the  course 
which  is  forced  upon  me  and  upon  every  friend  who  would 
be  true  to  me,  as  I  shall  seek  to  be  true  to  my  duty." 

The  three  friends  heard  this  declaration  rather  help 
lessly.  In  the  presence  of  such  a  lofty  spirit  of  self- 
immolation,  what  were  mere  men  like  themselves  to  say, 
or  do?  Obviously  nothing,  except  to  look  the  reverence 
and  wonder  which  they  felt  and  to  bow  tacitly  to  his  will. 
Hampstead  knew  instinctively  and  without  one  word  of 
assurance  that  these  men,  at  first  overwhelmingly  con 
vinced  of  his  guilt  by  what  they  had  seen,  and  then  be 
wildered  by  his  manner,  now  believed  in  him  absolutely. 
It  put  him  at  ease  with  them  and  gave  him  assurance  to 
add: 

"  I  know  that  not  one  of  you  is  a  man  to  desert  a  friend 


THE  SCENE  IN  THE  VAULT  353 

in  the  hour  of  his  extremity,  and  no  matter  what  happens 
I  believe  your  faith  in  me  will  not  falter.  You  will  under 
stand  my  wish  to  thank  you  for  what  you  have  done  and 
may  do,  and  to  say  good-by  for  to-night.  My  burning 
desire  now  is  to  get  by  myself  and  try  to  comprehend  what 
has  happened  and  what  may  yet  happen  before  this  miser 
able  business  is  concluded." 

Cordially  taking  the  hand  of  each,  while  the  men  one 
after  another  responded  with  fervent  expressions  of  faith 
and  confidence,  the  minister  turned  quickly  upon  his  heel, 
crossed  the  street,  and  leaped  lightly  upon  a  passing  car. 

Silence!  Silence!  Unwavering  silence!  The  car 
wheels  seemed  to  beat  this  injunction  up  to  him  with  every 
revolution.  Silence  for  the  sake  of  others,  some  of  whom 
were  supremely  worthy,  one  at  least  of  whom  might  be 
wretchedly  unworthy!  Above  all,  silence  for  the  sake  of 
his  vow  as  a  vicar  of  Christ  on  earth.  What  was  it  to  be  a 
Christian  if  not  to  be  a  miniature  Christ, — a  poor,  stum 
bling,  tottering,  stained  and  far-off  pattern  of  the  mighty 
archetype  of  human  goodness  and  perfection?  Accord 
ing  to  his  strength,  he,  John  Hampstead,  was  to  be  per 
mitted  to  suffer  as  a  saviour  of  a  very  small  part  of  man 
kind  and  in  a  very  temporary  and  no  doubt  in  a  very  in 
adequate  way,  the  virtue  of  which  should  lie  in  the  fact 
that  it  pointed  beyond  himself  to  the  one  saviour  who  was 
supremely  able.  He,  too,  must  be  "  dumb  before  his 
shearers  ",  not  stubbornly,  not  guiltily,  and  not  spectacu 
larly,  but  faithfully  and  for  a  worth-while  purpose, —  the 
saving  of  a  man. 

For  a  change  had  come  swiftly  in  the  relative  impor 
tance  of  the  motives  which  determined  his  course.  With 
the  actual  coming  of  his  cross,  he  had  caught  a  loftier 
vision.  It  was  not  to  save  the  few  remaining  weeks  or 
months  or  years  of  the  life  of  a  saintly  and  beautiful 
woman  that  he  was  to  stand  silent  even  to  trial,  convic- 


354  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

tion,  and  disgrace.  It  was  to  save  the  soul  of  a  man,  a 
wretched,  vain,  ornamental  and  unutilitarian  sort  of  per 
son,  but  none  the  less  unusually  gifted  in  many  of  his 
faculties,  perhaps  wanting  only  an  experience  like  this  to 
precipitate  the  better  elements  in  his  nature  into  the 
foundation  of  such  a  character  as  his  mother  believed  him 
to  possess. 

This  change  of  emphasis  strengthened  Hampstead 
enormously.  It  gave  him  calm  and  resolution,  increasing 
self-control  and  fortitude,  a  dignity  of  bearing  that  prom 
ised  at  least  to  remain  unbroken,  and  a  sense  of  the  pres 
ence  of  the  Presence  which  it  seemed  could  not  depart 
from  him. 

When  John  reached  home,  he  found  Rose,  Dick,  and 
Tayna  waiting  anxiously.  A  sight  of  his  face,  with  the 
new  strength  and  dignity  upon  it,  allayed  their  apprehen 
sion,  but  the  solemnity  of  manner  in  which  he  gathered 
them  about  him  in  the  study  roused  their  fears  again. 
Briefly  he  related  how  the  diamonds  had  been  discovered 
in  his  safe  deposit  vault.  Sternly  but  kindly  he  repressed 
the  hot  outburst  of  Dick;  sympathetically  he  tried  to  stem 
the  tears  of  Tayna,  but  before  the  pale  face  and  the  dry, 
fixed  eyes  of  Rose  he  stood  a  moment,  mute  and  hesitant, 
then  said  with  tender  brotherliness : 

"  Old  girl,  in  the  silence  of  waiting  for  my  vindication, 
it  is  going  to  be  easier  for  you  and  the  children  to  trust 
me  than  for  others.  But  even  for  you  it  will  be  hard. 
Others  can  withdraw  from  me,  can  wash  their  hands  of 
me ;  and  they  may  do  it.  You  cannot,  and  would  not  if 
you  could." 

Rose  clasped  her  brother's  hand  in  silent  assurance ;  but 
Hampstead  went  on  with  saddened  voice  to  portray  what 
was  to  be  expected. 

"  You  will  all  have  to  bear  the  shame  with  me.  In  fact, 
my  shame  will  be  yours.  You,  Rose,  will  be  pointed  out 


THE  SCENE  IN  THE  VAULT  355 

upon  the  street  as  my  sister.  Tayna,  at  school  to 
morrow,  may  encounter  fewer  smiles  and  some  eyes  that 
refuse  to  meet  hers.  Dick  will  have  some  hurts  to  bear 
among  his  fellows,  for  he  has  been  loyally  and  perhaps 
boastfully  proud  of  me.  I  have  only  this  to  ask,  that  you 
will  each  walk  with  head  up  and  unafraid,  with  no  attempt 
at  apology  nor  justification,  and  with  no  unkind  word  for 
those  who  in  act  or  judgment  seem  unkind  to  me." 

The  feeling  that  they  were  to  be  honored  with  bearing 
a  part  of  the  burden  of  the  big  man  whom  they  loved  so 
deeply  stirred  the  emotions  of  the  little  group  almost  be 
yond  control.  Dick  moved  first,  clutching  his  uncle's 
hand. 

"  You  bet  your  life !  "  he  blurted,  then  turned  and  bolted 
from  the  room.  Tayna  next  flung  her  arms  about  her 
uncle's  neck  and  wet  his  cheek  with  scalding  tears,  then 
dashed  away  after  Dick.  Last  of  all,  Rose  stood  with  her 
hands  upon  his  shoulders.  She  was  taller  for  a  woman 
than  he  for  a  man,  and  could  look  almost  level  into  his 
eyes. 

"  My  brother !  "  she  said  significantly.  "  My  strong, 
noble,  innocent  " —  and  then  a  gleam  of  light  shot  into  her 
eyes  as  she  added  — "  my  triumphant  brother !  " 

"My  bravest,  truest  of  sisters!"  The  big  man 
breathed  softly,  and  drawing  the  woman  to  him  imprinted 
that  kiss  upon  the  forehead  which,  seldom  bestowed, 
marked  when  given  his  genuine  tribute  of  respect  and  af 
fection  to  the  woman  who,  older  than  himself  by  ten 
years,  had  been  the  mother  to  his  orphaned  youth  and  had 
created  the  obligation  which,  uncharged,  he  none  the  less 
acknowledged  and  had  striven  to  repay  by  a  life  of  con 
scientious  devotion  to  her  and  to  her  children. 

The  door  closed  after  her  "  Good  night ",  and  John 
stood  alone  glancing  reflectively  about  the  long,  book-lined 
room.  Here  many  of  his  greatest  experiences  had  come 


356  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

to  him.  Here  he  had  caught  the  far-off  kindling  visions 
of  that  rarely  human  Galilean,  with  his  rarely  human 
group  about  him,  trudging  over  the  hills,  sitting  by  the 
side  of  the  sea,  teaching,  healing,  helping.  Here  he  had 
caught  the  vision  of  himself  following,  afar  off,  two  thou 
sand  years  behind,  but  following  —  teaching,  healing, 
helping  —  in  His  name. 

The  telephone  rang,  its  sharp,  metallic  jingle  shocking 
the  very  atmosphere  into  apprehensive  tremors.  Yet  in 
stantly  recalled  to  himself  and  to  the  new  height  on  which 
he  stood,  Hampstead  lifted  the  receiver  with  a  firm  hand 
and  replied  in  an  even,  measured  voice :  "  The  Sentinel? 
—  Yes  —  Yes  —  No  —  There  is  nothing  to  say  —  Abso 
lutely  !  —  I  do." 

The  receiver  was  hung  up.  The  only  change  in  Hamp- 
stead's  voice  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  this  con 
versation,  the  larger  part  of  which  had  taken  place  upon 
the  other  end  of  the  line,  was  a  deepening  gravity  of  utter 
ance.  In  a  few  moments  the  'phone  rang  again.  It  was 
The  Press.  The  papers  all  had  the  story  now.  The  Oak 
land  offices  of  the  San  Francisco  papers  were  also  clamor 
ing.  Each  wanted  to  know  what  the  minister  had  to  say 
to  the  damning  discovery  of  the  diamonds  in  his  box. 

For  them  all  Hampstead  had  the  same  answer :  "  I 
have  nothing  to  say  —  yet."  Some  of  the  inquisitors 
cleverly  attempted  to  draw  the  clergyman  out  by  suggest 
ing  that  there  was  plenty  of  opportunity  for  a  counter 
charge  that  the  diamonds  had  been  planted  in  his  box, 
since  it  was  improbable  in  the  last  degree  that  a  man  of 
ordinary  intelligence  would  conceal  stolen  diamonds  in  a 
safe  deposit  box  held  in  his  own  name,  the  key  to  which  he 
carried  in  his  own  pocket;  but  the  self-controlled  man  at 
the  other  end  of  the  telephone  fell  into  no  such  trap.  To 
direct  attention  to  an  inquiry  as  to  who  had  visited  his 
vault,  or  might  have  visited  it,  during  the  time  since  the 


THE  SCENE  IN  THE  VAULT  357 

diamonds  were  stolen  was  the  last  thing  the  minister  would 
do.  Already  he  had  reasoned  that  the  vault  custodian  on 
duty  in  the  morning,  knowing  that  Hampstead  had  not 
been  to  the  vault  during  the  day,  but  that  Assistant  Cashier 
Burbeck  had,  would  do  some  excogitating  upon  his  own 
account;  but  the  minister  reflected  that  this  would  not 
be  dangerous,  since  the  custodian,  sharing  in  the  very 
great  confidence  which  Rollie  enjoyed,  would  conclude 
that  this  young  man  had  been  made  the  innocent  messenger 
for  depositing  the  diamonds  in  the  vault,  and  for  the  sake 
of  unpleasant  consequences  which  might  result  to  the 
bank,  would  no  doubt  keep  his  mouth  tightly  shut. 

The  last  call  of  all  came  from  Haggard,  whose  city 
editor  had  just  told  him  that  the  minister  declined  any 
sort  of  an  explanation.  Haggard  was  managing  editor 
of  The  Press  and  Hampstead's  true  friend. 

"  Do  you  know  what  this  does  to  your  friends?  "  de 
manded  Haggard  passionately.  "  It  makes  them  as  dumb 
as  you  are.  I  know  you ;  you've  got  something  up  your 
sleeve.  But  this  case  isn't  going  to  be  tried  in  the  courts. 
It's  being  tried  in  the  newspapers  right  now.  Once  the 
court  of  public  opinion  goes  against  you,  it's  hard  to  get 
a  reversal.  And  it's  going  against  you  from  the  minute 
this  story  gets  before  the  public  —  our  version  of  it  even 
—  for  we  have  got  to  print  the  news,  you  know.  We've 
never  had  bigger." 

Some  sort  of  a  protest  gurgled  from  Hampstead's  lips. 

"  Oh,"  broke  out  Haggard  still  more  impatiently,  "  I 
think  the  majority  have  too  much  sense  to  believe  you're 
a  common  thief ;  but  they're  going  to  be  convinced  you're 
a  damned  fool.  A  public  man  had  better  be  found  guilty 
of  being  a  thief  than  an  ass,  any  day.  Now,  what  can  I 
say?" 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  replied  Hampstead  in  a  patient 
voice,  "  but  you  can  say  nothing  —  absolutely  nothing." 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

A   MISADVENTURE 

COUNTING  back  from  the  scene  in  the  vault  room  of 
the  Amalgamated  National,  which  took  place  at  about 
nine- thirty,  it  was  five  and  one-half  hours  to  the  time 
when  Marien  Dounay  and  Rollie  Burbeck  had  steamed 
out  with  Mrs.  Harrington  upon  her  luxurious  launch,  the 
Black  Swan,  which  was  so  commodious  and  powerful  that 
it  just  escaped  being  a  sea-going  yacht. 

But  now,  after  the  lapse  of  this  five  and  one-half 
hours,  neither  Marien  nor  Rollie  had  returned,  and  only 
one  of  them  had  an  inkling  of  what  might  have  been  hap 
pening  in  their  absence.  Information  from  the  Harring 
ton  residence  that  the  Black  Swan  would  return  to  the 
pier  about  ten-thirty,  caused  a  group  of  hopeful  young 
men  from  the  newspaper  offices  to  take  up  their  station 
on  the  yacht  pier  slightly  in  advance  of  that  hour.  But 
their  wait  was  long,  so  long  in  fact  that  one  by  one  they 
gave  up  their  vigil  and  returned  to  their  respective  offices 
with  no  answer  as  yet  to  the  burning  question  of  what 
had  led  Miss  Dounay  to  suspect  that  her  diamonds  were 
in  the  minister's  safe  deposit  vault.  But  the  distress  and 
disappointment  of  the  reporters  was  nothing  like  so  great 
as  the  distress  and  disappointment  upon  the  Black  Swant 
although  for  a  very  different  reason. 

The  evening  with  Mrs.  Harrington  and  her  guests  had 
begun  pleasantly  enough.  The  party  itself  was  a  jolly 
one,  and  so  far  as  might  be  judged  from  outward  ap 
pearances,  Miss  Marien  Dounay  was  quite  the  j oiliest  of 


A  MISADVENTURE  359 

all ;  excepting  perhaps  Mrs.  Harrington  herself  who  was 
elated  over  the  unexpected  appearance  of  the  actress;  and 
Rollie,  over  its  effect  in  immediately  restoring  him  to  the 
lost  favor  of  his  hostess.  As  many  times  as  it  was  de 
manded,  Miss  Dounay  told  and  retold  the  story  of  the 
loss  of  her  jewels.  She  was  the  recipient  of  much  sym 
pathy  and  of  many  compliments  because  of  the  admirable 
fortitude  with  which  she  endured  her  loss. 

Rollie  thought  Miss  Dounay  appeared  able  to  dispense 
with  the  sympathy,  but  perceived  that  she  greatly  enjoyed 
the  compliments.  That  she  should  keep  the  company  in 
ignorance  that  her  diamonds  were  to  be  recovered  and 
continue  to  enact  the  role  of  the  heroine  who  had  been 
cruelly  robbed  of  her  chief  possession,  did  not  even  sur 
prise  him.  It  was  her  affair  entirely  since  she  had  bound 
him  to  secrecy,  and  whatever  the  motive,  in  the  present 
state  of  his  nerves,  he  was  exceedingly  grateful  for  it; 
having  meantime  not  a  doubt  that  the  disclosure  would 
be  made  ultimately  in  a  manner  which  would  permit  the 
actress  to  gratify  to  the  full  her  childish  love  of  theatrical 
sensation. 

The  cruise  began  with  a  run  far  up  San  Pablo  Bay  to 
ward  Carquinez  Straits,  followed  by  a  straightaway  drive 
out  through  the  Golden  Gate  to  watch  the  sun  sink  be 
tween  the  horns  of  the  Farallones;  but  here  the  heavy 
swells  made  the  ladies  gasp  and  clamor  for  a  return  to 
the  shelter  of  the  Bay.  Re-entering  the  Gate  as  night 
fell,  there  was  good  fun  in  playing  hide-and-seek  from 
searchlight  practice  of  the  forts  on  either  side  the  famous 
tideway,  and  some  mischievous  satisfaction  in  lounging 
in  the  track  of  the  floundering,  pounding  ferryboats,  and 
getting  vigorously  whistled  out  of  the  way.  It  was  even 
enjoyable  to  grow  sentimental  over  the  phosphorescent 
glow  of  the  waves  in  the  wake  or  the  play  of  the  moon 
beams  on  the  bone-white  crest  at  the  bow.  But  after  an 


360  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

hour  or  so  of  this,  when  it  would  seem  that  all  of  these 
things  together  with  the  tonic  of  the  fresh  salt  breeze  had 
made  everybody  wolfishly  hungry,  Mrs.  Harrington's  but 
ler,  expertly  assisted,  opened  great  hampers  of  eatables 
and  drinkables,  and  began  to  serve  them  in  the  cabin  which 
would  have  been  rather  spacious  if  the  crowd  had  not 
been  so  large. 

"  Calmer  water,  James,  while  supper  is  being  served !  " 
Mrs.  Harrington  had  ordered  with  a  peace-be-still  air. 

James  communicated  the  order  to  the  captain,  who  un 
derstood  very  well  that  Mrs.  Harrington  was  a  lady  to  be 
obeyed.  But  it  happened  that  there  was  a  very  fresh 
breeze  on  the  Bay  that  night,  and  that  a  swell  which  was  a 
kind  of  left-over  from  a  gale  outside  two  days  before  was 
still  sloshing  about  inside,  so  that  "  calmer  water  "  was 
not  just  the  easiest  thing  to  find,  though  the  captain  looked 
for  it  hard. 

"  Calmer  water,  James,  I  said !  "  Mrs.  Harrington  di 
rected  reprovingly,  after  an  interval  of  watchful  impa 
tience,  accompanying  the  observation  by  a  look  that  shot 
barbs  into  the  eye  of  the  butler.  A  close  observer  would 
have  noticed  —  and  James  was  a  close  observer  of  his 
mistress  —  that  Mrs.  Harrington's  neck  swelled  slightly, 
and  that  a  flush  began  to  mount  upon  her  cheeks. 

James  knew  this  pouter-pigeon  swelling  well  and  its 
significance.  Mrs.  Harrington  must  now  be  obeyed. 
Calmer  water  had  to  be  had,  if  it  had  to  be  made. 

"  Back  of  Yerba  Buena,  it  is  calmer,"  the  lady  con 
cluded,  with  an  increase  of  acerbity. 

James  lost  no  time  in  conveying  this  second  command 
and  a  description  of  its  accompanying  signal,  to  the  cap 
tain. 

"  '  Behind  the  Goat/  she  said,"  James  concluded. 

Now  this  island  which  humps  like  a  camel  in  the  middle 
of  the  San  Francisco  Bay  is  known  to  the  esthetics  as 


A  MISADVENTURE  361 

Yerba  Buena,  but  to  folks  and  to  mariners  it  is  Goat 
Island.  James  was  folks;  the  captain  was  a  mariner. 
Mrs.  Harrington  might  have  been  esthetic. 

"  She  draws  too  much  to  go  nosin'  round  in  there,'* 
replied  the  captain  reluctantly,  and  explained  his  reluctance 
with  a  mixture  of  emphasis  and  the  picturesque,  by  add 
ing,  "  Behind  the  Goat  it's  shoal  from  hell  to  break 
fast." 

"  She  said  it,"  replied  James  truculently ;  and  stood  by 
to  see  the  helm  shift. 

"  In  she  goes  then,  dod  gast  her ! "  muttered  the  cap 
tain. 

"  So  much  calmer  in  here  under  the  sheltering  lee  of 
Yerba  Buena,"  chirped  Miss  Gwendolyn  Briggs,  another 
quarter  of  an  hour  later. 

"  Why,  to  be  sure,"  assented  the  hostess,  as  with  a 
provident  air  she  surveyed  her  contented  and  consuming 
guests  who  were  ranged  like  a  circling  frieze  upon  the 
seat  of  Pullman  plush  which  ran  round  the  luxurious 
cabin,  with  James  and  his  two  assistants  serving  from 
the  long  table  in  the  center. 

It  has  been  hinted  that  Mrs.  Harrington  was  inclined  to 
stoutness.  She  was  also  inclined  to  Russian  caviar.  Hav 
ing  seen  her  guests  abundantly  supplied,  she  lifted  to  her 
lips  a  triangle  of  toast,  thickly  spread  with  the  Romano f 
confection.  James  stood  before  her,  supporting  a  plate 
upon  which  were  more  triangles  of  toast  and  more  caviar 
in  a  frilled  and  corrugated  carton. 

But  quite  abruptly  Mrs.  Harrington,  who  was  proper 
as  well  as  expert  in  all  her  food-taking  manners,  did  an 
unaccountable  thing.  She  turned  the  toast  sidewise  and 
smeared  the  caviar  across  her  wide  cheek  almost  from 
the  corner  of  her  mouth  to  her  ear.  At  the  same  mo 
ment  James  himself  did  an  even  more  unaccountable 
thing.  He  lurched  forward,  decorated  his  mistress's 


362  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

shoulders  with  the  triangles  of  toast,  like  a  new  form  of 
epaulette  and  upset  the  carton  of  caviar  upon  her  ex 
pansive  bosom,  where  the  dark,  oleaginous  mass  clung 
helplessly,  quivered  hesitantly,  and  then  began  to  roll 
away  in  tiny,  black  spheres  and  to  send  out  trickling  ex 
ploratory  streams,  the  general  tendency  of  which  was 
downward. 

Nor  was  Mrs.  Harrington  alone  in  this  sudden  eccen 
tricity  of  deportment.  Over  on  the  right  Major  Hassler, 
florid  of  person  and  extremely  dignified  of  manner,  was 
filling  the  wine  glass  of  Mrs.  Marston  Conant,  when 
abruptly  he  moved  the  mouth  of  the  bottle  a  full  twelve 
inches  and  began  to  pour  its  contents  in  a  frothy  gurgling 
stream  down  the  back  of  the  withered  neck  of  John 
Ray,  a  rich,  irascible,  slightly  deaf,  and  sinfully  rich 
bachelor,  who  at  the  moment  had  leaned  very  low  and 
forward  to  catch  a  remark  that  the  lady  next  beyond 
was  making.  As  if  not  content  with  the  ruin  thus 
wrought,  Major  Hassler  next  swept  the  bottle  in  a  dizzy, 
cascading  circle  round  him,  sprinkling  every  toilet  within 
a  radius  of  three  yards,  and  after  dropping  the  bottle  and 
flourishing  his  arms  wildly,  ended  by  plunging  both  hands 
to  the  bottom  of  the  huge  bowl  of  punch  on  the  end  of  the 
table  nearest  him. 

The  only  palliating  feature  of  these  amazing  perfor 
mances  of  Major  Hassler,  of  James,  and  of  Mrs.  Har 
rington,  was  that  nearly  everybody  else  was  executing 
the  same  sort  of  scrambling,  lurching,  colliding,  capsizing, 
and  smearing  manoeuvres  upon  their  own  account.  For 
a  moment  everybody  glared  at  everybody  else  accusingly, 
and  then  Ernest  Cartwright,  sitting  on  the  floor  where 
he  had  been  hurled,  offered  an  interpretation  of  the  phe 
nomena. 

"We  struck  something!"  he  suggested  brightly. 

"  By  Gad !  "  declared  Major  Hassler  with  sudden  con- 


A  MISADVENTURE  363 

viction,  as  he  straightened  up  and  viewed  his  dripping 
hands  and  cuffs  with  an  expression  quite  indescribable. 
"  By  Gad !  That's  just  what  I  think !  " 

"  James !  "  murmured  a  voice  almost  entirely  smothered 
by  rage. 

James,  despite  the  horrible  fear  in  his  soul,  dared  to 
turn  his  gaze  upon  his  mistress,  when  suddenly  a  spasm  of 
pain  crossed  the  lady's  face. 

"Oh!"  she  gasped.  "Oh,  my  heart !"  Wrath  had 
given  way  to  fright,  and  the  hue  of  wrath  to  pallor. 

In  the  meantime,  the  Black  Swan  was  standing  very 
still,  as  still  as  if  on  land, —  which  to  be  exact  was  where 
she  was.  From  without  came  the  sound  of  waves  slap 
ping  idly  against  her  sides,  and  then  she  shivered  while 
the  screws  were  reversed  and  churned  desperately.  From 
end  to  end  of  the  cabin  there  were  "  Ohs  "  and  "  Ahs," 
and  shrieks  of  dismay,  with  short  ejaculations,  as  the 
guests  struggled  to  their  feet  and  stood  to  view  the  ruin 
which  the  sudden  stoppage  of  the  craft  had  wrought  upon 
toilets,  dispositions,  and  the  atmosphere  of  Mrs.  Harring 
ton's  happy  party. 

The  next  half  hour,  to  employ  a  marine  phrase,  was 
devoted  to  salvage  of  one  sort  and  another.  One  thing 
became  speedily  clear.  The  Black  Swan  had  her  nose 
fast  in  most  tenacious  clay.  No  amount  of  churning  of 
the  screw  could  drag  her  off.  And  no  amount  of  tooting 
of  whistles  brought  any  sort  of  craft  to  her  assistance. 
She  was  stuck  there  till  the  tide  should  take  her  off. 
The  tide  was  running  out.  By  rough  calculation,  it 
would  be  eight  hours  till  it  came  back  strong  enough  to 
lift  up  her  stern  and  rock  her  nose  loose. 

It  was  an  unpleasant  prospect. 

With  Mrs.  Harrington  sitting  propped  and  pale  in  the 
end  of  the  cabin,  her  guests  tried  to  cheer  her  by  making 
light  of  their  plight  and  the  prospect;  but  as  the  waters 


364  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

slipped  out  and  out  from  under  the  Black  Swan,  till  she 
lay  on  the  bottom  with  a  drunken  list,  and  the  hours  crept 
along  with  dreary  slowness  through  the  tiresome  night, 
one  disposition  after  another  succumbed  to  the  inevitable 
and  became  cattish  or  bearish,  according  to  sex.  But 
the  very  first  disposition  of  all  to  go  permanently  bad 
was  that  of  Marien  Dounay.  Young  Burbeck  thought  he 
understood  to  the  full  her  capacity  to  be  disagreeable,  but 
learned  in  the  first  hour  that  this  was  a  ridiculously  mis 
taken  assumption. 

Nor  could  any  mere  petulance  on  account  of  weariness 
or  cramped  quarters  among  people  who  under  these  cir 
cumstances  speedily  became  a  bore  to  themselves  and  to 
each  other,  account  for  her  behavior.  Never  had  Rollie 
seen  so  many  manifestations  of  her  feline  restlessness, 
or  her  wiry  endurance.  When  other  women  had  sunk 
exhausted  to  sleep  upon  a  cushion  in  a  corner,  or  upon 
the  shoulders  of  an  escort  who  obligingly  supported  the 
fair  head  with  his  own  weary  body,  Miss  Dounay  sat 
bolt  and  desperate,  staring  at  the  myriad  shoreward  lights 
as  if  they  held  some  secret  her  wilful  eyes  would  yet 
bore  out  of  them. 

Though  Rollie  loyally  tried,  as  endurance  would  per 
mit,  to  watch  with  Marien  through  the  night,  sustaining 
snubs  and  shafts  with  humble  patience  and  venturing  an 
occasional  dismal  attempt  at  cheer,  the  first  sign  of  re 
laxation  in  Miss  Dounay's  mood  was  vouchsafed  not  to 
him  but  to  Frangois. 

This  was  when  at  eight  o'clock  the  next  morning,  after 
toiling  painfully  up  the  steps  at  the  landing  pier,  her 
eyes  fell  upon  the  huge  black  limousine,  with  the  faithful 
chauffeur,  his  arms  folded  upon  the  wheel,  his  head 
leaning  forward  upon  them,  sound  asleep.  He  had  been 
there  since  ten-thirty  of  the  night  before.  Other  chauf 
feurs  had  waited  and  fumed,  had  sputtered  to  and  fro- 


A  MISADVENTURE  365 

in  joy-riding  intervals,  and  had  gone  home ;  but  not  Fran- 
gois.  A  smile  of  pride  and  satisfaction  played  across 
Miss  Dounay's  face  at  this  exhibition  of  faithfulness, — 
and  especially  in  the  presence  of  this  jaded,  dispirited 
crowd. 

"  Frangois,"  Miss  Dounay  exclaimed,  prodding  his  el 
bow  until  his  head  rolled  sleepily  into  wakefulness,  "  I 
could  kiss  you !  " 

However,  she  did  not.  Rollie  opened  the  door,  Miss 
Dounay  stepped  back,  motioned  into  the  comfortable 
depths  Mrs.  Harrington  and  as  many  other  of  the  ladies 
as  the  car  would  accommodate,  and  was  whirled  away. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

THE  COWARD   AND   HIS   CONSCIENCE 

ON  the  theory  that  his  duty  as  an  escort  still  survived, 
Rollie  was  given  a  seat  upon  the  limousine  beside  Fran- 
gois;  but  at  the  door  of  the  St.  Albans  Miss  Dounay  dis 
missed  him  as  curtly  as  if  she  had  quite  forgotten  that  he 
was  now  or  ever  of  any  importance  to  her. 

While  to  escape  a  breakfast  with  that  thistle-tempered 
lady  on  such  a  morning  would,  under  ordinary  condi 
tions,  have  been  a  distinct  relief,  this  morning  it  ap 
pealed  to  Rollie  as  merely  palliative.  It  was  a  mercy,  but 
no  more.  He  did  not  expect  to  know  one  single  sensa 
tion  of  real  relief  until  he  saw  Miss  Dounay  holding  her 
precious  diamonds  once  more  in  her  hands.  It  was  his 
intention,  after  a  hasty  breakfast,  to  make  the  swiftest 
possible  transit  to  the  residence  of  the  Reverend  John 
Hampstead  and  there  secure  the  loan  of  a  certain  key 
and  rush  back  to  the  bank.  Within,  say,  seven  minutes 
thereafter,  he  anticipated  that  this  taste  of  true  relief 
would  come  to  him. 

It  was  twenty  minutes  past  eight  as  he  crossed  the  wide 
lobby  of  the  hotel.  His  physical  condition  was  far  from 
enviable.  He  was  clad  in  a  baggy-elbowed,  wretchedly 
wrinkled,  and  somewhat  stained  yachting  suit.  He  had 
not  slept  since  the  night  before,  in  which,  he  now  recalled, 
he  had  not  slept  at  all.  During  this  extended  period  of 
wakefulness  he  had  been  upset  and  out  of  his  orbit.  Yet 
all  this  while  the  world  had  been  rocking  along,  provok- 
ingly  undisturbed  by  his  troubles,  and  right  now  a  big 


THE  COWARD  AND  HIS  CONSCIENCE      367 

new  day  was  hurrying  on.  The  cars  were  banging  out 
side,  and  the  newsboys  were  making  a  devil  of  a  racket 
about  something,  their  cries  filling  the  street  and  ringing 
vibrantly  into  the  lobby  from  without.  Everything  was 
strident  and  noisy,  jarring  upon  his  nerves.  His  first 
instinct  was  a  dive  for  the  bar,  but  he  stopped  before  the 
door  was  reached.  He  was  on  a  new  tack.  He  resolved 
not  to  drink  to-day.  He  had  signed  no  pledges ;  but  he 
felt  that  a  highball  was  not  in  keeping  with  what  he  pro 
posed  to  do. 

Instead  he  veered  toward  the  grillroom  and  ordered  a 
pot  of  hot,  hot  coffee  with  rolls.  To  fill  the  impatient  in 
terval  between  the  order  and  the  service,  he  snatched 
eagerly  at  the  morning  paper  in  the  extended  hand  of  a 
waiter.  At  the  first  glance  his  eyes  dilated,  and  his  lips 
parted. 

When  the  coffee  came,  he  was  still  absorbed.  The 
dark  liquid  was  cold  before  he  swallowed  it,  mechanically, 
in  great  gulps.  It  was  well  the  chair  had  arms,  or  his 
body  might  have  fallen  from  it.  His  mind  was  reeling 
like  a  drunken  thing  as  he  tried  to  grasp  the  process  by 
which  a  woman's  malice  had  used  him  for  a  vicious  as 
sault  upon  the  man  who  had  saved  him  when  he  stood 
eye  to  eye  with  ruin. 

Slowly  Burbeck's  muddled  intelligence  groped  back 
ward  over  the  events  of  yesterday.  What  a  fool,  he! 
How  clever,  she!  How  demoniacally  clever!  No  won 
der  she  forgave  him  so  lightly;  no  wonder  she  cooed  so 
ecstatically  once  she  found  the  diamonds  were  in  the 
preacher's  vault!  No  wonder  she  had  made  sure  that 
he  went  upon  the  yachting  party,  even  to  the  point  of 
going  herself.  It  was  to  keep  him  out  of  reach  until  her 
diabolical  plot  against  Hampstead  could  take  effect.  And 
no  wonder  she  sat  bolt  and  staring  at  the  shore  lights  all 
the  long  night  through. 


368  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

But  why  did  she  plot  against  Hampstead?  What  was 
between  the  clergyman  and  herself?  Why  did  Hamp 
stead  not  strike  out  boldly  and  clear  himself  at  one  stroke, 
by  the  mere  opening  of  his  lips?  He  not  only  had  not 
defended  himself,  but  the  papers  declared  he  had  a  guilty 
air,  that  he  fought  against  the  opening  of  the  box,  and 
bore  himself  in  a  manner  that  convinced  even  his  bonds 
men  he  was  guilty. 

But  the  newspaper  chanced  to  relate  as  an  interesting 
detail  how  the  minister  had  quickly  recovered  his  self- 
possession,  to  the  extent  of  rearranging  the  contents  of 
his  box  after  their  handling  by  Assistant  District  Attor 
ney  Searle,  and  that  he  had  even  casually  destroyed  one 
paper  with  the  remark  that  it  was  something  no  longer  to 
be  preserved. 

This  almost  accidental  sentence  gave  Rollie  the  strang 
est  feeling  of  all.  He  knew  what  it  must  have  been 
that  was  destroyed, —  the  evidence  of  his  own  indebted 
ness,  to  explain  which  would  inevitably  lead  to  his  ex 
posure.  This,  too,  accounted  for  the  preacher's  protest 
and  his  apparent  guilty  fear.  He  could  not  know  the 
diamonds  were  in  the  box ;  he  did  know  the  I.  O.  U.  was 
there.  He  had  destroyed  it  at  the  very  moment  when 
the  discovery  of  the  diamonds  must  surely  have  convinced 
him  that  the  culprit  he  was  shielding  had  betrayed  him 
like  a  Judas. 

"And  yet  he  stands  pat!"  breathed  Rollie  huskily, 
while  the  greatest  emotion  of  human  gratitude  that  his 
heart  could  hold  swelled  his  breast  almost  to  bursting. 

"  I  didn't  know  they  made  a  man  that  would  stand  the 
gaff  like  that,"  he  confessed  after  a  further  reflective  in 
terval. 

Burbeck's  first  instinct  was  to  rush  to  the  telephone 
and  acquit  himself  in  the  minister's  mind  of  all  complicity 
in  the  plot ;  for  inevitably  Rollie  thought  first  of  himself. 


THE  COWARD  AND  HIS  CONSCIENCE      369 

But  thought  for  himself  recalled  the  threat  of  Marien 
Dounay.  How  fiercely  she  had  warned  him  that  his 
secret  was  not  his  own,  but  hers!  He  grasped  the  sig 
nificance  of  her  threat  now  as  she  had  shrewdly  calculated 
that  he  would.  Let  him  murmur  a  word,  let  him  attempt, 
no  matter  how  subtly  or  adroitly,  to  set  in  motion  any 
plan  that  would  loosen  the  tightening  coils  about  John 
Hampstead,  and  this  woman  would  turn  her  crazy  venge 
ance  on  him,  would  fasten  his  crime  upon  him,  would 
do  a  baser  thing  than  that, —  would  make  it  appear  that 
he  had  deliberately  placed  the  diamonds  in  the  minister's 
vault,  thus  causing  her  innocently  to  do  him  this  grave 
injustice.  Thus  in  his  exposure  he  would  not  be  con 
templated  with  indulgent  sadness  as  a  gentleman  weakling 
who  had  descended  to  vulgar  crime  to  make  good  an 
other  crime  as  heinous;  but,  on  the  contrary,  would  be 
regarded  hatefully,  repulsively,  with  loathsome  scorn  and 
withering  contempt,  as  a  despicable  ingrate  base  enough 
to  shift  his  guilt  to  the  shoulders  of  the  one  who  had 
rescued  him. 

Before  this  prospect,  fear  paralyzed  every  other  im 
pulse  of  his  heart,  every  faculty  of  his  brain.  His  head 
was  aching  violently.  He  pressed  his  hands  against  his 
temples,  and  wondered  how  he  could  get  quietly  out  of 
here  and  where  he  could  fly. 

A  secluded  room  of  this  very  hotel  suggested  the  surest 
isolation.  He  got  up-stairs  to  the  writing  room,  where 
a  hastily  scrawled  note  to  Parma,  the  cashier,  made  the 
night  upon  the  Bay  the  excuse  for  his  absence  from  the 
bank  for  the  day.  Another  to  his  mother, —  he  dared 
not  hear  her  voice  telling  him  of  what  had  befallen  her 
beloved  pastor, —  that  he  was  too  weary  even  to  come 
home  and  w.ould  sleep  the  day  out  in  Oakland,  leaving 
his  exact  whereabouts  unknown  to  avoid  the  possibility 
of  disturbance. 


370  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

Mustering  one  final  rally  of  his  volitional  powers, 
Rollo  approached  the  desk  and  registered  as  some  one 
not  himself  before  the  very  eyes  of  the  clerk,  who  knew 
him  well  and  laughingly  became  accessory  to  the  subter 
fuge. 

Once  within  the  privacy  of  his  room,  the  impulse  to 
telephone  to  John  Hampstead  and  tell  that  distracted  man 
a  thing  which  he  would  be  greatly  desiring  to  know, 
came  again  to  the  young  man ;  but  in  part  exhaustion  and 
in  part  cowardice  led  him  to  postpone  that  simple  act  till 
he  had  slept,  rested,  thought. 

A  few  minutes  later,  with  shades  darkened  and  cloth 
ing  half  removed,  he  buried  his  feverish  head  among  the 
pillows  and  sought  to  bury  consciousness  as  well.  But 
the  latter  attempt  was  a  failure,  for  the  young  man  found 
himself  prodded  into  the  extreme  of  wake  fulness, — 
thinking,  thinking,  thinking,  until  he  was  all  but  mad. 
Out  of  all  this  thinking  gradually  emerged  one  solid,  un- 
shifting  fact.  This  was  the  character  of  John  Hamp 
stead.  He,  Rollo  Burbeck,  might  be  a  shriveling,  palter 
ing  coward;  Marien  Dounay  might  be  only  a  beautiful 
fiend;  but  John  Hampstead  was  a  strong,  unwavering 
man.  John  Hampstead  would  stand  firm ! 

Buoying  his  soul  on  this  idea,  Rollie  dropped  off  to 
feverish  slumber.  But  the  sleeper  awoke  suddenly  with 
one  question  hooking  at  his  vitals.  Was  any  man  phys 
ically  equal  to  such  a  strain?  Was  John  Hampstead 
still  standing  firm  like  the  huge  human  bulwark  he  had 
begun  to  seem? 

Shrill  cries  floated  upward  from  the  street,  sounding 
above  the  persistent  whang  of  car  wheels  upon  the  rails. 
These  were  the  voices  of  the  newsboys  crying  the  noon 
edition. 

Rollie  rose  uncertainly  and  tottered  to  the  telephone, 
where  he  asked  that  the  latest  papers  be  sent  up  to  him, 


THE  COWARD  AND  HIS  CONSCIENCE      371 

and  awaited  their  coming  in  an  ague  of  suspense  and 
fear. 

When  they  were  received,  he  found  little  upon  the 
front  of  either  but  the  story  of  the  minister's  arrest  for 
the  theft  of  the  diamonds  and  the  finding  of  the  jewels 
in  his  box,  coupled  with  fresh  emphasis  upon  his  exhibi 
tion  of  the  demeanor  of  a  guilty  man.  It  flowed  up  and 
down  the  chopped-off  and  sawed-out  columns,  liberally 
besprinkled  with  photographs  of  the  chief  actors  in  the 
drama,  then  turned  upon  the  second  page  and  spread 
itself  riotously,  in  various  types. 

Through  these  paragraphs  the  mind  of  young  Bur- 
beck  scrambled  like  a  terrier  digging  for  a  rat,  pawing 
his  way  desperately  to  make  sure  of  the  answer  to  his 
one,  all-consuming  question:  Was  the  preacher  still 
standing?  The  first  paper  declared  accusingly  that  he 
was;  that,  like  a  guilty  man  taking  advantage  of  techni 
calities,  he  refused  to  speak.  The  second  paper  affirmed 
the  same,  but  with  even  greater  emphasis,  though  without 
the  meaner  implication. 

In  the  spread-out  story  there  were  set  forth  details  and 
conjectures  innumerable  that  would  have  interested  and 
amazed  Rollie,  if  his  mind  had  been  able  to  grasp  them 
at  all ;  but  it  was  not.  It  fastened  upon  the  one  thing  of 
ultimate  significance  in  his  present  water-logged  state. 
Hugging  in  his  arms  the  papers  which  conveyed  this  su 
preme  assurance  to  him,  as  if  they  had  been  the  spar  to 
which  his  soul  was  clinging,  he  rolled  over  upon  the  bed 
with  a  sigh  of  intense  relief  and  sank  instantly  into  long 
and  unbroken  sleep. 

Hunger  wakened  him  at  eight  in  the  evening;  but  in 
stead  of  ringing  for  food,  he  asked  for  the  evening  pa 
pers.  Again  their  message  was  reassuring.  His  nerves 
were  stronger  now ;  his  soul  was  gaining  the  respite  which 
it  needed.  He  dispatched  a  messenger  to  his  home  for 


372  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

fresh  linen  and  a  business  suit,  turned  on  the  water  in 
the  bath,  arranged  for  the  presence  of  a  barber  in  his 
room  in  fifteen  minutes,  and  the  service  of  a  hearty  din 
ner  in  the  same  place  in  thirty. 

The  refreshment  of  invigorating  sleep,  plus  the  spec 
tacle  of  John  Hampstead,  that  Atlas  of  a  man,  standing 
rock-like  beneath  the  world  of  another's  burden,  had  in 
spired  Rollie  sufficiently  to  enable  him  to  resume  once 
more  the  pose  of  his  presumed  position  in  life.  To  be 
sure,  he  was  still  under  the  spell  of  his  fear, —  and  could 
not  see  himself  as  yet  doing  one  thing  to  weaken  the 
pressure  upon  his  benefactor. 

For  this  dastardly  inactivity  he  suffered  a  flood  of 
self-reproaches,  but  stemmed  them  with  reflections  upon 
the  irreproachable  character  of  the  minister,  and  his  im 
pregnable  position  in  the  community.  He  reflected  how 
futile  and  puerile  all  the  endeavors  of  the  newspapers  to 
involve  this  good  man  in  scandal  must  prove.  How 
ridiculous  the  idea  that  he  could  be  a  common  thief! 
How  suddenly  the  wide,  sane  public,  after  a  day  or  two's 
debauch  of  excitement,  would  turn  and  bestow  again  their 
unwavering  confidence  upon  this  man  and  laurel  his  brow 
with  fresh  and  more  permanent  expressions  of  their  re 
gard  for  his  high  character.  Reflections  like  this,  winged 
by  his  own  inside  knowledge  of  the  true  greatness  of 
the  victim,  together  with  the  soothing  influence  of  a  bath, 
the  ministrations  of  a  skilled  barber,  and  the  sedative 
effects  of  a  good  dinner,  sent  young  Burbeck  to  his 
home  somewhere  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening,  to  all 
appearances  quite  his  usual,  happy-looking  self. 

The  telephone  had  apprised  his  mother  of  his  coming, 
and  she  had  remained  up  to  meet  him. 

"  Oh,  my  son !  "  she  murmured  happily,  as  he  laid  his 
smooth  cheek  against  hers  and  mingled  his  wavy  brown 
hair  with  the  silvering  threads  of  her  own  dark  tresses. 


THE  COWARD  AND  HIS  CONSCIENCE     373, 

The  young  man  gave  his  mother  a  gentle  pressure  of 
his  hands  upon  her  shoulders,  then  turned  his  face  and 
kissed  her  cheek,  but  ventured  no  word.  A  sense  of 
blood  guiltiness  had  come  upon  him  at  the  contact  of  her 
presence. 

"  Of  course  you  have  seen  what  that  woman  and  the 
papers  are  doing  to  Brother  Hampstead,"  his  mother  ob 
served  sadly. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  young  man,  in  a  tone  as  dejected  as. 
hers. 

"  They  are  tearing  his  reputation  to  pieces/'  the  mother 
went  on.  "  There  is  hardly  a  shred  of  it  left  now.  Like 
vultures  they  are  digging  over  every  detail  of  his  life  and 
putting  a  sinister  interpretation  upon  the  most  innocent 
things.  The  worst  of  it  is  that  even  our  own  people  begin 
to  turn  against  him.  Some  of  the  people  for  whom  he 
has  done  the  most  and  suffered  the  most  are  readiest 
with  their  tongues  to  blast  his  character.  It  is  a  sad 
commentary  upon  the  way  of  the  world." 

"  Still,"  urged  Rollie,  "  the  man  is  strong ;  his  char 
acter  is  so  upright;  his  purposes  are  so  high  and  so  un 
selfish  that  no  permanent  harm  can  come  to  him.  His 
enemies  must  sooner  or  later  be  confuted,  and  he  will 
emerge  from  all  this  pother — "  Pother:  it  took  great 
resolution  for  Rollie  to  force  so  large  a  fact  into  so  small 
a  word  — "  a  bigger  and  a  more  influential  man  in  the, 
community,  even  a  more  useful  one  than  before." 

Mrs.  Burbeck  listened  to  this  tribute  from  her  beloved 
son  to  her  beloved  minister  with  a  joy  that  was  pathetic. 
She  had  never  known  him  to  speak  so  heartily,  with  such 
unreserved  admiration  before.  It  told  her  things  about 
the  character  of  her  son  she  had  hoped  but  had  not  known. 
Yet  she  felt  herself  compelled  to  disagree  with  her  son's 
conclusions. 

"  That  is  where  you  are  wrong,  my  boy,"  she  said,. 


374  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

again  in  tones  of  sadness.  "  The  public  mind  is  a  strange 
consciousness.  If  it  once  gets  a  view  of  a  man  through 
the  smoked  glasses  of  prejudice,  it  seldom  consents  to 
look  at  him  any  other  way.  Remove  to-morrow  every 
vestige  of  evidence  against  Brother  Hampstead,  and, 
mark  my  words!  the  fickle  public  will  begin  to  discover 
or  invent  new  reasons  why,  once  having  hurled  its  idol 
down,  it  will  not  put  him  up  again." 

"  You  take  it  too  seriously,  mother,"  suggested  Rollie 
half-heartedly,  after  a  moment  of  silence. 

"  No,  I  do  not,"  Mrs.  Burbeck  replied,  shaking  her 
head  gravely.  "  The  worst  of  it  is  the  man's  absolute 
silence.  If  he  would  only  say  something.  There  must 
be  some  sort  of  explanation.  If  he  took  the  diamonds, 
there  must  have  been  some  laudable  reason.  This  morn 
ing  there  were  literally  tens  of  thousands  of  people  hop 
ing  for  such  an  explanation  and  ready  to  give  to  him 
the  benefit  of  every  doubt.  There  are  fewer  such  to 
night.  There  will  be  fewer  still  to-morrow. 

"If  somebody  else  stole  them,  and  Brother  Hamp 
stead,  to  protect  the  thief,  planned  to  hold  them  tem 
porarily  while  immunity  was  gained  for  the  coward,  he 
must  see  now  that  he  made  a  terrible  mistake,  that  for 
once  he  has  carried  his  extravagant  leniency  entirely  too 
far.  If  this  theory  is  correct,  the  thief  must  have  fled 
beyond  the  very  reach  of  the  newspapers,  or  be  insane, 
or  a  drug  fiend,  or  something  like  that.  I  cannot  con 
ceive  of  any  human  being  so  base,  or  in  a  position  so 
delicate  that  he  would  not  instantly  make  a  public  con 
fession  to  spare  his  benefactor." 

Rollie  had  turned  and  was  looking  straight  at  his 
mother,  almost  reproachfully,  certainly  protestingly,  at 
the  torture  she  was  causing  him.  She  saw  this  strange 
look  and  stopped. 

"  Oh,  my  boy,"  she  exclaimed.     "  You  are  so  sympa- 


THE  COWARD  AND  HIS  CONSCIENCE      375 

thetic.  How  proud,  how  selfishly  happy  it  makes  me 
to  feel  that  nothing  like  this  can  ever  come  upon  my 
son!" 

But  Rollie's  eyes  had  shifted  quickly  to  a  picture  on 
the  opposite  wall,  and  he  braced  himself  desperately 
against  these  bomb-like  assaults  of  his  mother  upon  his 
position. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  after  an  interval,  "  it  must  be  pretty 
hard  on  Hampstead."  But  though  he  made  this  remark 
seem  natural,  his  brain  was  again  reeling.  With  mighty 
effort  he  forced  himself  to  give  the  conversation  another 
turn  by  a  question  which  had  been  fascinating  him  during 
the  whole  day. 

"  Tell  me,"  he  asked,  "  how  is  father  taking  it?  " 

"  Very  hardly,"  Mrs.  Burbeck  confessed.  "  You 
know  your  father:  so  proud,  so  exact  and  scrupulous  in 
all  his  dealings,  with  his  word  better  than  the  average 
man's  bond,  yet  not  lenient  toward  the  man  who  errs. 
He  thinks  everybody  good  or  bad,  every  soul  white  or 
black.  When  Brother  Hampstead  was  prosecuting  law 
breakers  in  court,  father  was  proud  of  him;  but  when  he 
goes  off  helping  jail-birds  and  fallen  women,  father  is 
harsh  and  utterly  unsympathetic. 

"  Last  night  when  the  first  charge  appeared,  father  was 
greatly  incensed,  because  at  last,  he  said,  Brother  Hamp 
stead  had  done  the  thing  he  always  feared,  brought  the 
church  into  a  notoriety  that  was  unpleasant.  This  morn 
ing,  at  the  story  of  the  diamonds  in  the  vault,  he  was 
dumbfounded.  To-night  he  talks  of  nothing  but  that, 
whatever  the  outcome,  All  People's  shall  clear  its  skirts 
of  the  unpleasantness  by  requesting  Brother  Hampstead' s 
resignation." 

"  Resignation !  "  Rollie  gasped.  "  Resignation  —  sim 
ply  for  doing  his  duty !  Why,"  he  burst  out  excitedly, 
"  that  would  be  treachery!  It  would  be  the  act  of  Judas. 


376  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

Don't  let  father  do  it,  mother,"  he  pleaded.  "  Don't  let 
him  put  me  in  that  position !  " 

A  wild  look  had  come  into  the  young  man's  face  as  he 
spoke. 

"  You?     In  what  position?  " 

Mrs,  Burbeck  was  surprised  at  the  expression  on  her 
son's  face. 

For  a  moment  Rollie  floundered  wildly. 

"  Why,  you  see  —  I  —  I  believe  in  Hampstead.  I  — 
I  have  told  the  bank  that  he  is  all  right,  no  matter  what 
happens.  I  don't  want  my  own  father  reading  him  out 
of  the  church,  do  I  ?  " 

Mrs.  Burbeck's  perplexity  gave  way  to  smiling  com 
prehension,  which  was  met  by  relief  and  some  approach 
to  composure  upon  the  features  of  her  son,  who  felt  that 
he  had  escaped  the  eddy  of  an  appalling  danger. 

"  Naturally,"  replied  Mrs.  Burbeck  soothingly.  "  What 
a  loyal  nature  yours  is!  By  the  way,  Rollie,"  and  the 
force  of  a  new  idea  energized  her  glance  and  tone;  "  it 
is  only  half -past  ten.  Wouldn't  it  be  fine  of  you  to  just 
run  over  and  give  Brother  Hampstead  a  pressure  of  the 
hand  to-night,  and  tell  him  how  loyally  your  heart  is 
with  him  in  this  trying  situation?  It  would  mean  so 
much  to  him  coming  from  a  strong,  successful,  young 
man  of  the  world  like  you,  whose  position  he  must  ad 
mire  so  much ! " 

Rollie's  face  went  white,  and  his  eyes  roved  despair 
ingly.  It  must  have  been  well  for  the  mother's  peace  of 
mind,  as  it  certainly  was  for  his,  that,  having  asked  her 
question,  instead  of  studying  his  face  while  she  waited 
for  the  answer,  she  let  her  eyes  fall  to  the  seal  ring  she 
had  given  him  upon  his  twenty-first  birthday,  and  busied 
-herself  with  studying  out  again  the  complexities  of  the 
monogram  and  holding  off  the  hand  itself  to  see  how 
.handsomely  the  ring  adorned  it. 


THE  COWARD  AND  HIS  CONSCIENCE     377 

"  I  think  I'd  rather  not  to-night,  mother,"  Rollie  re 
plied,  as  if  after  a  moment  of  deliberation.  "  This  thing 
works  me  up  terribly  —  you  can  see  that  —  and  I'm  a 
bit  short  on  sleep  yet.  If  I  went  to  see  Brother  Hamp- 
stead  to-night,  I'm  sure  I  shouldn't  sleep  a  wink  after 
ward.  Besides,  my  coming  might  alarm  him.  It  might 
make  him  think  his  plight  is  worse  than  it  is ;  it  would  be 
so  unusual." 

Again  the  mother-love  surged  above  any  other  emo 
tion.  "  You  are  right,"  she  admitted,  caressing  his 
hand.  "  It  was  only  an  impulse  of  mine,  anyway.  You 
must  be  tired,  poor  boy." 

"  Pretty  tired,  mother,"  he  confessed  truthfully ;  then 
stooped  and  kissed  her  upon  the  cheek  and  seemed  to 
leave  the  room  naturally  enough,  although  in  his  soul  he 
knew  that  he  fled  from  her  presence  like  a  criminal  from 
his  conscience. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

THE    BATTLE   OF    THE   HEADLINES 

HAMPSTEAD  was  determined  not  to  show  the  white 
feather.  The  morning  after  the  discovery  of  the  dia 
monds  in  his  box,  he  made  the  effort  to  go  about  his 
daily  duties  unconcernedly  and  even  happily,  with  a  smile 
of  confidence  upon  his  face.  His  bearing  was  to  pro 
claim  his  innocence.  But  it  would  not  work.  Crowds 
gaped.  Individuals  stared.  Reporters  hounded.  The 
very  people  who  needed  his  help  and  had  been  accustomed 
to  receive  it  gratefully,  appeared  to  shrink  from  his  pres 
ence.  At  the  homes  where  he  called,  an  atmosphere  of  re 
straint  and  artificiality  was  created.  He  tried  to  thaw 
this  and  failed  dismally ;  it  was  evident  that  the  recipients 
of  his  attentions  also  tried,  but  also  failed,  for  all  the 
while  their  doubts  peeped  out  at  him. 

After  half  a  day  the  minister  gave  up  and  sat  at  home 
—  immured,  besieged,  impounded.  He  was  like  a  man 
upon  a  rock  isolated  by  a  deluge,  the  waters  rolling  hori 
zon-wide  and  surging  higher  with  every  edition  of  the 
newspapers. 

Oh,  those  newspapers!  John  Hampstead  had  not 
realized  before  how  much  of  modern  existence  is  lived  in 
the  newspapers.  So  amazingly  skillful  were  they  in 
sweeping  away  his  public  standing  that  the  process  was 
actually  interesting.  He  found  himself  absorbed  by  it, 
viewing  it  almost  impersonally,  like  a  mere  spectator, 
moved  by  it,  swayed  to  one  side  or  the  other,  as  the  record 
seemed  to  run.  The  description  of  the  scene  in  the  vault 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  HEADLINES      379 

room,  even  as  it  appeared  unembellished  in  Haggard's 
paper,  overwhelmed  him. 

"  It  is  the  manner  of  a  thief  hopelessly  guilty,"  he  con 
fessed. 

On  the  other  hand,  when  Haggard's  paper  in  an  edi 
torial  asked  argumentatively :  "  Why  should  this  man 
steal  ?  What  need  had  he  for  money  in  large  sums  ?  " 
John's  judgment  approved  the  soundness  of  such  a.  de 
fense.  "  There  were  a  score/'  affirmed  the  editorial, 
"  perhaps  a  hundred  men  who  had  and  would  freely  sup 
ply  Doctor  Hampstead  with  all  the  money  necessary  for 
the  exigencies  of  the  work  to  which  he  notoriously  de 
voted  all  his  time.  As  for  his  personal  needs,  the  man 
lived  simply.  He  had  no  wants  beyond  his  income." 

"  True  —  perfectly  true.  A  good  point  that,"  conceded 
Hampstead  to  himself. 

But  that  evening  one  of  the  San  Francisco  papers  re 
ported  that  at  about  the  time  the  diamonds  were  stolen,  the 
Reverend  Hampstead  had  approached  various  persons  in 
Oakland  with  a  view  to  borrowing  a  large  sum  of  money 
without  stating  for  what  the  money  was  required.  The 
paper  volunteered  the  conjecture  that  the  minister, 
through  speculation  in  stocks,  had  overdrawn  some  fund 
of  which  he  was  a  trustee,  and  of  which  he  was  presently 
to  be  called  upon  to  give  an  accounting ;  hence  the  desper 
ate  resort  to  the  theft  of  the  diamonds  and  the  temporary 
holding  of  them  in  his  vault,  boldly  counting  on  his  own 
immunity  from  suspicion. 

This  conjecture  was  extremely  damaging.  It  skill 
fully  suggested  a  logical  hypothesis  upon  which  the  "min 
ister  could  be  assumed  to  be  a  thief ;  and  so  high  had  been 
the  man's  standing  that  some  such  hypothesis  was  neces 
sary. 

As  Hampstead  read  this,  he  felt  the  viciousness  of  the 
thrust.  It  was  false,  but  it  had  the  color  of  an  actual  in- 


380  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

cident  behind  it.  Some  clerk,  bookkeeper,  or  secretary  to 
one  of  the  men  who  had  so  promptly  enabled  him  to  meet 
Rollie's  defalcation,  seeing  the  comparatively  large  sum  in 
cash  passed  to  the  hand  of  the  minister,  had  done  a  little 
thinking  at  the  time  and  when  the  arrest  came  had  done  a 
little  talking. 

Yet  the  morning  papers  of  the  next  day  had  apparently 
forgotten  this  incident.  They  were  off  in  full  cry  upon  a 
much  more  dangerous  trail  by  digging  deeper  into  the  re 
lations  between  the  minister  and  the  actress.  As  if  from 
hotel  employees,  or  some  one  in  Miss  Dounay's  service, 
one  of  them  had  elicited  and  put  together  a  story  of  all 
the  calls  that  Hampstead  had  made  upon  Miss  Dounay  in 
her  hotel  during  the  five  weeks  she  had  been  at  the  St. 
Albans.  This  story  made  it  appear  that  the  minister  had 
become  infatuated  with  the  actress,  and  that  he  had  sought 
every  means  of  spending  time  in  her  company. 

It  was  skillfully  revealed  that  Miss  Dounay  at  first  had 
been  greatly  attracted  by  the  personality  and  the  apparent 
sincerity  of  the  clergyman;  but  as  her  social  acquaintance 
in  the  city  rapidly  extended  and  the  work  upon  her  Lon 
don  production  became  more  engrossing,  she  had  less  and 
less  time  for  him,  and  was  finally  compelled  to  deny  her 
self  almost  entirely  to  the  divine's  unwelcome  attentions, 
notwithstanding  which  the  clergyman  still  found  means  of 
forcing  himself  upon  the  actress.  One  such  occasion,  it 
appeared,  had  prevented  the  appearance  of  Miss  Dounay 
at  a  dinner  given  by  a  very  prominent  society  lady  of  the 
town,  where  the  brilliant  woman  was  to  have  been  the 
guest  of  honor.  Some  one  had  even  recalled  that  the 
minister  was  not  an  invited  guest  at  the  dinner  during 
which  the  diamonds  were  stolen.  He  had  presented  him 
self,  it  seemed,  after  the  affair  was  in  progress  and  de 
parted  before  its  conclusion. 

But  it  was  left  to  one  of  the  evening  papers  of  this  day 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  HEADLINES      381 

to  explode  the  climactic  story  of  the  series.  The  writers 
of  the  morning  story  had  been  careful  to  protect  the  con 
duct  of  Miss  Dounay  from  injurious  inference;  but  now 
the  Evening  Messenger  went  upon  the  streets  with  a  story 
that  left  Miss  Dounay's  character  to  take  care  of  itself, 
and  purported  boldly  to  defend  the  minister. 

PREACHER  NOT  THIEF,  boldly  ventured  the  headlines. 
The  report  declared  that  an  intimacy  of  long  standing  had 
existed  between  the  minister  and  the  actress.  The  public 
was  reminded  of  what  part  of  it  had  forgotten  and  the 
rest  never  knew,  that  John  Hampstead  had  himself  been 
an  actor.  The  narrative  told  how  the  minister  had  made 
his  professional  debut  in  Los  Angeles  by  carrying  this 
same  Marien  Dounay  in  his  arms  in  Quo  Vadis,  night 
after  night,  in  scene  after  scene,  during  the  run  of  the 
play;  and  hinted  broadly  of  an  attachment  beginning  then 
which  had  ripened  quickly  into  something  very  powerful, 
so  powerful,  in  fact,  that  when  Hampstead  was  playing 
with  the  "  People's  ",  an  obscure  stock  company  in  San 
Francisco,  Miss  Dounay  had  broken  with  Mowrey  at  the 
Grand  Opera  House,  because  he  refused  to  have  the  awk 
ward  amateur  in  his  company,  and  had  herself  gone  out  to 
the  little  theater  in  Hayes  Valley  and  lent  to  its  perform 
ance  the  glamour  of  her  name  and  personality,  merely  to 
be  near  the  idol  upon  whom  her  affections  had  fixed  them 
selves  so  fiercely. 

Actors  now  playing  in  San  Francisco  who  had  been 
members  of  the  People's  Stock  at  the  time  remembered 
that  the  couple  succeeded  but  poorly  in  suppressing  signs 
of  their  devotion  to  each  other,  and  the  stage  manager, 
now  retired,  was  able  to  recall  how  in  the  garden  scene  of 
East  Lynne,  Miss  Dounay  had  deliberately  changed  the 
"  business  "  between  Hampstead  and  herself  in  order  that 
she  might  receive  a  kiss  upon  the  lips  instead  of  upon  the 
forehead  as  the  script  required. 


382  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

This  mosaic  of  truth  and  falsehood  related  with  gusta 
tory  detail  a  violent  quarrel  between  the  two  which  oc 
curred  one  night  in  a  restaurant  prominent  in  the  night 
life  of  the  old  city,  the  result  of  which  was  that  Miss 
Dounay  cast  off  her  domineering  and  self-willed  lover  en 
tirely. 

"  After  a  few  weeks/*  the  article  observed  soberly, 
"  the  broken-hearted  lover  surprised  his  friends  by  re 
nouncing  the  stage  and  entering  upon  the  life  of  the  min 
istry  as  a  solace  to  his  wounded  affections. " 

In  support  of  this,  it  was  pointed  out  that  the  minister 
had  never  married  nor  been  known  to  show  the  slightest 
tendency  toward  gallantries  in  his  necessarily  wide  associ 
ation  with  women. 

The  glittering  achievement  of  vindication  was  next  at 
tempted  by  the  Messengers  story.  This  admittedly  was 
theory,  but  it  was  set  forth  with  confidence  and  particu 
larity,  as  follows: 

"  The  return  of  the  actress,  in  the  prime  of  her  beauty 
and  at  the  very  zenith  of  her  career,  upon  a  visit  to  Cali 
fornia,  which  had  been  her  childhood  home,  not  unnat 
urally  led  to  a  revival  of  the  old  passion.  For  a  time  the 
two  were  running  about  together  as  happy  as  cooing  doves. 
Then  a  clash  came.  This  was  over  the  question  of  the 
harmonizing  of  the  two  careers.  Obviously,  Miss 
Dounay  could  not  be  expected  to  give  up  hers,  and  the 
minister  was  now  so  devoted  to  his  own  work  that  he 
found  himself  unwilling  to  make  the  required  concession 
upon  his  part. 

"  A  serious  disagreement  resulted.  The  actress  was  a 
woman  of  high  temper.  It  had  been  the  custom  to  de 
posit  her  diamonds  in  the  minister's  box  as  a  matter  of 
protection.  On  the  night  of  the  party,  she  had  com 
mitted  them  to  him,  as  usual.  But  the  next  morning, 
angered  over  the  clergyman's  failure  to  keep  an  appoint- 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  HEADLINES      383 

ment  with  her,  the  actress,  in  a  moment  of  reckless  pas 
sion,  had  charged  him  with  stealing  them.  Under  the  cir 
cumstances,  Hampstead,  as  a  chivalrous  man,  declined  to 
speak,  knowing  full  well  that  sooner  or  later  the  woman's 
passion  would  relent,  and  she  would  release  him  from  the 
awkward  position  in  which  he  stood." 

There  were  holes  in  this  story.  At  places  it  did  not 
fit  the  facts ;  as  for  instance,  the  minor  fact  that  by  com 
mon  agreement  the  minister  did  not  leave  the  dinner  party 
until  considerably  after  twelve,  consequently  at  a  time 
when  the  bank  vault  was  inaccessible.  There  was  also  the 
major  fact  that  the  theft  of  the  diamonds  was  discovered 
and  reported  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  not  the 
next  day  "  after  the  minister's  failure  to  keep  an  appoint 
ment  with  the  actress  had  angered  her." 

But  these  trifling  discrepancies  were  disregarded  by  the 
eager  rewrite  man,  who  threw  this  story  together  from  the 
harvesting  of  half  a  dozen  leg-weary  reporters. 

Nor  did  they  matter  greatly  to  Hampstead.  He  read 
the  story  with  whitening  lips.  He  recognized  it  as  the 
sort  of  vindication  that  would  ruin  him.  It  made  his 
position  a  thousand  times  more  difficult.  It  was  infinitely 
harder  to  keep  silence  when  the  very  truth  itself  was 
blunderingly  mixed  to  malign  him. 

Nor  did  the  public  mind  the  discrepancies  greatly.  The 
Messenger's  story  was  a  triumph  of  journalism.  It  was 
the  most  eagerly  read,  the  most  convincingly  detailed  ex 
planation  of  what  had  occurred.  The  public  absorbed  it 
with  a  sense  of  relief  that  at  last  it  had  learned  how  such 
a  man  as  John  Hampstead  could  have  fallen  as  he  had. 
The  story  even  excited  a  little  sympathy  for  the  minister 
by  revealing  the  unexpected  element  of  romance  in  his  life. 
Nevertheless,  its  publication  upon  the  evening  of  the  third 
day  after  the  minister's  arrest  battered  away  the  last  pre 
tense  of  any  considerable  section  of  the  popular  mind 


384  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

that,  whatever  the  outcome  of  his  trial,  Hampstead  was 
any  longer  a  man  entitled  to  public  confidence. 

Flying  rumor,  published  gossip,  and  vociferous  assault 
upon  one  side,  combined  with  guilty  silence  upon  the 
other,  had  absolutely  completed  the  work  of  destruction. 
The  reputation  of  the  pastor  of  All  People's  was  hope 
lessly  blasted.  Even  to  the  minister,  sitting  alone  like  a 
convict  in  his  cell,  this  effect  was  clearly  apparent.  The 
question  of  whether  he  was  a  thief  or  not  a  thief  had 
faded  into  the  background  of  triviality.  The  issue  was 
whether  he,  a  trusted  minister,  while  occupying  his  pulpit 
and  bearing  himself  as  a  chaste  and  irreproachable  serv 
ant  of  mankind,  had  yielded  to  an  intrigue  of  the  flesh. 
The  indictment  did  not  lie  in  definite  specifications  that 
could  be  refuted,  but  in  inferences  that  were  unescapable. 

The  riot  of  reckless  gossip  had  made  the  preacher's 
honor  common.  Anything  was  believable.  Each  single 
incident  became  a  convincing  link  in  the  chain  of  evidence 
that  John  Hampstead  was  an  apostate  to  the  creed  and 
character  he  espoused. 

The  minister  in  his  study,  his  desk  and  chair  an  island 
surrounded  by  a  sea  of  rumpled  newspapers,  harried  on 
every  side  by  doubt  and  suspicion  so  aggressive  that  it  al 
most  forced  him  to  doubt  and  suspect  himself,  laid  his 
face  upon  his  desk. 

This  was  more  than  he  had  prayed  for.  This  was  no 
honored  cross  that  he  was  asked  to  bear.  It  was  a  robe  of 
shame  to  be  put  upon  him  publicly.  To  be  sure,  it  was 
loose,  ill-fitting,  diaphanous,  but  none  the  less  it  was  envel 
oping.  It  did  not  blot  out,  yet  it  ate  like  a  splotch  of  acid. 

But  suddenly  the  man  sat  up,  and  for  the  first  time  since 
the  startling  disclosure  in  the  vault  room,  a  look  of  terror 
shot  into  his  eyes,  terror  mixed  with  pain  that  was  inde 
scribable.  It  was  a  thought  of  the  effect  of  this  last  story 
upon  the  mind  of  Bessie  that  had  stabbed  him.  Bessie 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  HEADLINES      385 

had  grown  wonderfully  during  these  five  years.  She  had 
completed  four  years  at  Stanford  and  one  year  of  post 
graduate  work  in  the  University  of  Chicago.  To-mor 
row,  if  he  had  the  date  right,  she  would  be  receiving  her 
degree.  The  beauty  of  her  character  and  the  beauty  of 
her  person  had  ripened  together,  until  John's  imagination 
could  think  of  nothing  so  exquisite  in  all  the  universe  as 
Bessie  Mitchell.  And  after  the  degree  and  a  summer  in 
Europe,  she  was  coming  back  to  California  and  to  him! 
Together  they  were  going  to  enter  upon  a  life  and  the 
making  of  a  home  that  was  to  be  rich  in  happiness  for  both 
of  them,  and  as  they  fondly  hoped,  rich  in  happiness  for 
all  with  whom  they  came  in  contact. 

Reflecting  that  in  this  last  week  Bessie  would  be  too 
busy  to  read  the  newspapers,  John  had  chivalrously 
thought  to  tell  her  nothing  of  what  was  befalling  him, 
that  she  might  set  out  happily  upon  her  European  journey. 
But  now  had  come  this  alleged  vindication,  which  was  the 
most  terrible  assault  of  all,  with  its  disgusting  insinu 
ations.  He  felt  instinctively  that  Bessie  would  see  that 
story,  because  it  was  the  one  of  all  which  she  ought  not 
to  see.  Seeing  it,  he  assured  himself,  she  would  believe 
it,  more  fully  than  any  one  else  would  believe  it.  John 
knew  that  despite  his  own  years  of  steadfast  devotion  and 
despite  her  own  constant  effort  to  do  so,  she  had  never 
quite  wiped  out  the  horrible  suspicions  engendered  by  his 
confession  of  the  brief  attachment  for  Miss  Dounay.  He 
suspected  it  was  a  thing  no  woman  ever  successfully  wipes 
out.  This  damnable  story  would  revive  that  suspicion  con 
vincingly.  It  was  inevitable  that  Bessie  should  believe 
that  Marien  Dounay's  presence  had  revived  the  old  infatu 
ation,  and  that  he  had  yielded  to  its  power. 

This  reflection  left  Hampstead  with  his  lips  pursed,  his 
cheeks  drawn,  sitting  bolt  and  rigid  like  a  frozen  man. 

In  this  polar  atmosphere  the  telephone  tinkled.     The 


386  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

minister  answered  it  with  wooden  movements  and  a 
wooden  voice : 

"  No,  nothing  to  say  —  yet." 

Always  the  "  yet  "  was  added.  "  Yet  "  meant  the  min 
ister's  hope  for  deliverance.  The  reporters  who  had 
heard  that  "  yet "  so  many  times  in  the  three  days  began 
to  find  in  it  something  pathetic  and  almost  convincing. 
But  though  the  minister  had  added  it  this  last  time  from 
sheer  force  of  habit,  the  hope  had  just  departed  from 
him.  With  his  love-hope  gone,  there  was  nothing  person 
ally  for  which  John  Hampstead  cared  to  ask  the  future. 
Time,  for  him,  was  at  an  end.  He  was  not  a  being.  He 
was  an  instrument. 

But  as  if  to  remind  him  for  what  purpose  he  was  an 
instrument,  he  had  barely  hung  up  the  'phone  when  there 
was  a  faint  tap  at  the  outer  entrance  of  his  study,  fol 
lowed  at  his  word  of  invitation  by  the  figure  of  a  man 
who,  with  a  furtive,  backward  glance  as  if  afraid  of  the 
shadows  beneath  the  palm  trees,  slipped  quickly  through 
the  narrowest  possible  opening,  closed  the  door  and  halted 
uncertainly,  his  eyes  blinking  at  the  light,  his  hands  rub 
bing  nervously  one  upon  the  other.  The  man  was  care 
fully  dressed  and  tonsured.  There  was  every  evidence 
that  to  the  world  he  was  trying  to  be  his  old  debonair  self, 
but  before  the  minister  he  stood  abject  and  pitiable. 

"  Rollie !  "  exclaimed  Doctor  Hampstead,  leaping  up. 

"  She  haunted  me ! "  the  conscience-stricken  man  fal 
tered  helplessly,  sinking  into  a  chair.  "  She  threatened  to 
denounce  me  right  there  in  the  bank,  if  I  dared  to  com 
municate  with  you."  Again  there  was  that  frightened 
look  backward  to  the  door. 

An  hour  before,  when  the  minister  had  not  yet  reasoned 
out  the  effect  upon  Bessie  of  this  awful  story  of  his  alleged 
relations  with  the  actress,  he  would  have  leaped  upon 
Rollie  vehemently,  so  anxious  to  know  how  the  diamonds 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  HEADLINES     387 

got  into  his  safe-deposit  box  as  almost  to  tear  the  story 
from  the  young  man's  throat. 

But  now  he  had  the  feeling  that  there  was  no  longer 
anything  at  stake  worth  while.  All  in  him  that  quickened 
at  the  sight  of  his  visitor  was  a  sort  of  clinical  interest 
in  the  state  of  a  soul. 

As  Rollie  told  his  story,  the  minister  gasped  with  relief 
to  learn  that  his  own  plight  was  due  to  no  Judas-like  be 
trayal,  but  that  the  young  man  was,  like  himself,  a  victim 
of  this  scheming,  devilish  woman,  and  he  listened  with 
sympathetic  eagerness  while  the  narrator  depicted 
brokenly  the  frightful  conflict  between  fear  and  duty 
through  which  he  had  passed  during  the  two  days  gone. 

But  with  the  narrative  concluded,  the  duty  of  each  was 
still  plain.  The  silence  must  be  kept.  Moreover,  in  this 
revulsion  of  feeling  from  doubt  to  active  sympathy,  the 
minister  perceived  that  things  were  going  very  hardly 
with  the  young  man.  Knowing  Miss  Dounay  now  rather 
well,  he  was  able  to  understand,  even  without  explanation, 
the  paralyzing  fear  which  had  kept  Rollie  dumb  for  these 
three  days,  and  to  realize  that  his  coming  even  tardily  was 
a  sign  of  some  renascence  of  moral  courage.  This1  per 
ception  quickened  both  the  minister's  sympathy  and  his 
interest  in  his  duty.  He  was  able  to  interrogate  the  young 
man  considerately  and  to  put  him  gradually  somewhat  at 
his  ease,  and  this  so  tactfully  as  to  make  it  seem  to  Rollie 
that  his  delay  in  coming  was  half  a  virtue  and  that  the  act 
of  coming  itself  was  a  supreme  moral  victory  which  gave 
promise  of  greater  victories  to  come. 

But  it  did  not  require  this  exhibition  of  magnanimity  to 
bring  young  Burbeck  to  finish  his  story  with  an  outpour 
ing  of  the  bitter  self-reproaches  he  had  for  two  days  been 
heaping  upon  himself. 

"  I  never  realized  before  what  a  despicable  coward  sin 
or  crime  can  make  of  a  man,"  he  concluded.  "  This  spec- 


388  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

tacle  of  you  bearing  uncomplainingly  upon  your  back  the 
burden  of  my  guilt  before  this  whole  community  sets 
something  burning  in  me  like  a  fire.  It  has  given  me 
courage  to  come  here.  Sometimes  in  the  last  few  hours 
I  have  almost  had  the  courage  to  come  out  and  tell  the 
truth,  to  denounce  this  devilish  woman  for  what  she  is, 
and  to  take  my  guilt  upon  myself." 

For  a  moment  Rollie's  eyes  opened  till  a  ring  of  white 
appeared  about  the  iris,  and  he  shifted  his  position  dizzily. 

"  But,"  exclaimed  the  minister  with  sudden  apprehen 
sion  and  an  outburst  of  great  earnestness,  "  you  must  not. 
You  must  consider  your  mother.  I  command  you  to  con 
sider  her  above  everything  else !  I  should  forbid  you  to 
speak  for  her  sake,  if  nothing  else  were  involved.  I  do 
want  you  to  become  brave  enough  to  take  this  guilt  upon 
yourself,  if  circumstances  permit  it;  but,  they  do  not  per 
mit.  Besides,"  and  the  minister  shook  his  head  sadly, 
"  even  that  would  now  be  powerless  to  relieve  me  from 
these  awful  consequences.  I  might  be  proved  spotlessly 
innocent  of  the  charge  of  theft,  and  yet  my  reputation 
would  still  be  hopelessly  ruined.  It  has  cost  me  all,  Rollie 
—  all!" 

The  minister  and  the  penitent,  the  innocent  and  the 
guilty,  drew  together  for  the  moment  linked  by  that  bond 
of  sympathy  which  invariably  exists  when  one  man  suf 
fers  willingly  in  the  cause  of  another,  and  is  heightened 
when  the  sufferer  winces  under  the  pain. 

"  Even,"  the  minister  labored  on,  "  even  that  hope  of 
Her,  of  which  I  told  you  the  other  day,  has  been  torn 
from  me." 

Rollie's  face  turned  a  more  ghastly  white. 

"  That?  "  he  murmured  huskily. 

"  That ! "  assented  the  minister,  with  a  grave,  down 
ward  bend  of  the  head. 

"  It  is  too  much,"  groaned  the  young  man  in  real  agony 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  HEADLINES     389 

of  spirit.  "  Nothing,  nothing  that  is  at  stake  is  worth 
that  —  can  be  worth  that." 

For  a  moment  Hampstead  was  silent. 

"  To  be  loyal,  Rollie,  to  be  true  to  the  highest  duty  is 
worth  everything." 

This  was  what  he  would  have  liked  to  say ;  it  was  what 
he  believed;  it  was  what  he  meant  to  demonstrate  by  his 
course  of  action;  but  for  the  moment  he  could  not  say  it. 
Instead,  he  swallowed  hard  and  looked  downward,  toying 
with  a  paper-knife  upon  his  desk.  But  his  visitor  was 
going  now.  There  was  no  reason  why  he  should  stay, 
and  the  minister,  as  he  held  open  the  door,  was  able  to  say 
warningly :  "  Remember !  Not  one  word  for  the  sake 
of  your  mother's  life." 

"  But  you,"  protested  the  young  man,  his  eyes  again 
staring  wildly. 

"  You  are  to  try  not  to  think  of  me,"  declared  Hamp 
stead,  with  low  emphasis,  "  except  as  my  own  steadfast 
ness  in  my  duty  —  if  I  am  able  to  be  steadfast  —  may 
help  you  to  be  steadfast  in  yours.  Rollie!  We  under 
stand  each  other?  " 

But  the  young  fellow  only  shook  his  head  negatively 
with  a  growing  look  of  awe  and  wonder  in  his  eyes, 
then  turned  and  slipped  hastily  away.  He  did  not  under 
stand  this  man  —  the  bigness  of  him  —  at  all;  but  he 
found  himself  leaning  on  him  more  and  more  heavily  and 
felt  some  spiritual  cleansing  process  digging  at  the  inside 
of  himself  like  the  scrape  and  bite  of  a  steam  shovel. 

As  for  the  minister,  once  he  was  free  to  think  of  him 
self  alone,  he  perceived  that  Rollie's  story  had  set  him 
free  of  silence.  It  supplied  the  gap  in  his  knowledge 
which  had  made  him  dumb.  There  was  a  real  defense 
which  could  now  be  offered.  Now,  too,  that  there  was 
again  some  prospect  of  vindication,  he  felt  his  desire  for 
vindication  grow. 


390  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

Up  to  the  present  he  had  waived  arraignment  on  the 
charge,  and  had  twice  secured  the  customary  two  days' 
postponement  of  the  hearing  upon  preliminary  examina 
tion.  But  immediate  action  should  now  be  taken.  Ac 
cordingly  he  located  Judge  Brennan  at  his  club  by  tele 
phone  and  the  Assistant  District  Attorney  Searle  at  his 
residence,  and  without  explanation  asked  that  the  time  for 
his  arraignment  and  preliminary  hearing  be  set  as  soon  as 
possible. 

Next  morning  the  papers  presented  as  the  most  star 
tling  development  of  the  Hampstead  Case  the  fact  that  the 
minister  had  announced  himself  prepared  to  go  to  trial, 
and  the  preliminary  hearing  had  been  set  for  Saturday  at 
ten  o'clock  in  Judge  Brennan' s  court  room. 

Public  interest  centered,  of  course,  upon  the  nature  of 
the  minister's  defense.  There  was  even  observable  some 
thing  like  a  turn  of  the  tide  in  his  favor.  Rumor,  sus 
picion,  and  innuendo  for  the  time  had  played  themselves 
out.  Shrewd  managing  editors  —  keen  students  of  mass 
psychology  that  they  were  —  discerned  signs  that  these 
ebbing  cross-currents  of  doubt  and  uncertainty  might 
sweep  suddenly  in  the  opposite  direction,  and  they  were 
alertly  prepared  to  switch  the  handling  of  the  news  if  the 
popular  appetite  changed. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

A    WAY    THAT    WOMEN    HAVE 

FRIDAY  for  John  was  a  day  of  impatience,  its  tedious 
hours  consumed  in  turning  over  and  over  in  his  mind  the 
story  he  would  tell  upon  the  witness  stand  and  the  plea  he 
would  make  to  the  court  for  a  dismissal  of  the  com 
plaint  against  him ;  when  the  day  was  finished,  John  found 
his  mind  in  a  rather  chaotic  state,  and  it  seemed  to  him 
that  little  had  been  accomplished. 

But  if  little  happened  that  day  in  Encina  which  was  of 
moment  to  his  cause,  there  was  an  interesting  sequence  of 
events  transpiring  in  Chicago,  which  had  at  least  some  re 
lation  to  the  matter ;  for  this  was  the  day  upon  which  the 
degrees  were  being  conferred. 

The  assembly  hall  of  the  great  university  was  large,  and 
every  seat  was  taken.  The  huge  platform  was  decked, 
studded,  draped  and  upholstered  with  professors,  assistant 
professors  and  presidents,  all  in  mortar  boards  and  gowns, 
the  somber  black  of  the  latter  relieved  by  the  rich  colors 
of  the  insignia  indicating  the  rank  or  character  of  their  re 
spective  degrees. 

The  presence  of  all  this  banked  and  massed  doctorial 
dignity  made  the  atmosphere  of  the  hall  to  reek  with 
erudition.  The  vast  number  of  individuals  in  front  felt 
their  puny  intellects  dwarfed  to  pigeon's  brains.  Hitherto 
some  of  them  had  rather  congratulated  themselves  that 
they  knew  the  multiplication  table  and  the  rule  of  three. 
Now  their  instinct  was  to  grovel. 

Yet  not  all  of  that  assemblage  were  so  impressed. 
Robert  Mitchell  was  not.  Huge  of  chest,  thick-fingered, 


392  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

heavy-shouldered,  amiable  of  his  broad  countenance, 
shrewd  of  eye,  and  growing  thin  of  that  curly  brown 
thatch  which  had  been  one  of  Hibernia's  gifts  to  his  en 
semble,  he  surveyed  the  scene  with  a  critic's  air. 

Not  that  Mitchell  scorned  the  pundits  of  learning.  Be 
ing  the  vice-president  of  a  transcontinental  line  of  railroad 
and  therefore  necessarily  a  man  of  wide  acquaintance  and 
of  wide  employment  of  the  talents  of  mankind,  he  knew 
there  were  occasions  when  even  he  must  wait  upon  the 
pronouncements  of  some  spectacled  creature  of  the  labora 
tory.  Still,  he  could  not  help  reflecting  that  he  would 
like  to  see  that  pale,  gangling  pundit  on  the  end  try  to  cal 
culate  the  exact  instant  in  which  to  throw  the  lever  to 
make  a  flying  switch.  He  would  like  further  to  see  that 
fellow  with  a  dome  that  loomed  like  a  water-tank  on  the 
desert  try  to  pick  up  a  string  of  car  numbers  as  they  ran 
by  him  on  the  track,  and  see  how  many  he  could  carry  in 
his  head  and  carry  right. 

In  fact,  everything  about  the  function  expressed  itself 
to  Mitchell  in  terms  of  traffic.  Quite  a  hall,  this.  The 
seats  in  it  came  from  Grand  Rapids,  no  doubt ;  or  perhaps 
from  Manitowoc.  The  rate  from  Grand  Rapids  was 
nineteen  cents  a  hundred  or  thereabouts ;  from  Manitowoc 
it  was  twenty, —  practically  an  even  basis.  But  on  a  trans 
continental  haul  now,  to  San  Francisco  for  instance,  com 
mon  point  rates  applied,  and  Manitowoc  had  an  advan 
tage  of  five  cents  a  hundred  unless  —  unless  the  Michigan 
roads  rebated  the  Michigan  manufacturers  something  of 
their  share  in  the  division  of  the  through  rate.  Of  course, 
rebates  were  illegal ;  but  you  never  could  exactly  tell  what 
an  originating  line  might  not  do  to  keep  a  sufficient 
amount  of  business  originating.  Take  his  own  line,  now, 
for  instance,  and  borax  shipments  from  the  Mojave 
Desert  as  against  the  Union  Pacific  with  borax  shipments 
from  Death  Valley. 


A  ,WAY  THAT  WOMEN  HAVE          393 

Thus  the  mind  of  the  great  master  of  transportation 
roved  on  while  professors  rose  and  droned  and  presented 
round  rolls  to  never-ending  strings  of  candidates;  but  at 
length  there  appeared  in  the  serpentine  line  going  up  for 
Master's  degrees  one  presence  which  took  the  glaze  of 
speculation  from  the  eye  of  Mitchell. 

The  world  at  large  has  often  noted  the  anomalous  fact 
that  a  Doctor's  cap  and  gown  does  not  appear  to  detract 
greatly  from  the  masculinity  of  a  man.  If  anything,  it 
makes  a  beard,  a  brow,  or  the  pale,  unprosperous  furze 
upon  a  lip  look  more  virile  than  otherwise;  but  that 
same  cap  and  gown  will  deceitfully  rob  a  woman  of 
something  of  the  indefinable  air  of  her  femininity.  It 
gives  her  an  ascetic  cast,  and  asceticism  is  unwomanly. 
But  there  are  exceptions.  Some  types  of  women's  faces 
look  just  a  little  more  fetchingly  feminine  and  bewitch- 
ingly  alluring  under  a  mortar-board  cap  than  beneath  any 
other  form  of  headdress. 

The  eye  of  the  railroad  man  rested  now  with  benevo 
lence  and  satisfaction  upon  the  shapely,  ripened  figure  of 
such  a  woman.  Glowing  upon  her  features  was  a  youth 
and  a  feminism  so  vital  as  to  seem  that  nothing  could 
overcome  them.  Her  eyes  were  blue  and  bright ;  her  hair 
was  brown  and  crinkly;  while  dimples  that  refused  to  be 
subdued  by  the  dignity  of  the  occasion  kept  continually 
upon  her  features  the  suggestion  of  a  smile  about  to 
break. 

But  with  these  evidences  of  sunny  personality,  there 
went  stout  hints  of  substantial  character.  The  forehead 
was  good  and  finely  arched  to  stand  for  brains.  The  chin 
was  perhaps  a  trifle  wide  to  permit  the  finest  oval  to  the 
countenance,  but  it  suggested  balance  and  power,  and  pro 
claimed  that  what  the  mind  of  this  young  lady  planned, 
her  will  might  be  expected  to  accomplish.  In  fact,  the 
young  lady  stood  at  this  moment  face  to  face  with  the  con- 


394  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

summation  of  a  five  years'  programme,  and  five  years  is 
long  for  youth  to  hold  a  purpose. 

With  swelling  satisfaction  the  railroad  man  saw  the 
president  of  the  university  now  addressing  his  daughter. 
It  was  the  same  Latin  formula  that  had  been  repeated 
scores  of  times  already  this  morning;  but  now  Mitchell 
made  his  first  effort  to  grasp  it,  to  reason  out  its  mean 
ing,  all  the  while  greatly  admiring  his  daughter's  unfalter 
ing  courage  under  the  fire  of  these  unintelligible  phrases. 

The  somewhat  irrepressible  Miss  Bessie  was,  indeed, 
doing  very  well.  For  a  moment  the  dimples  had  actually 
composed  themselves,  and  there  was  a  light  of  high  dig 
nity  in  the  eye,  as  the  candidate  extended  her  hand  for  the 
diploma  and  stood  meekly  while  the  silken  collar  was 
placed  about  her  neck. 

"  That  is  a  very  able  man,  that  Doctor  Winton,"  re 
marked  Mitchell  to  his  wife.  "  He  has  got  the  same  way 
as  the  rest  of  them  when  he  talks;  but  what  he  says  is 


sense." 


Since  Mitchell  did  not  know  at  all  what  the  university 
president  had  said,  this  remark  showed  that  he  had  fallen 
back  upon  his  intuitive  judgment  of  men  and  had  swiftly 
perceived  in  the  university  president  something  of  the 
same  practical  qualities  that  go  to  the  making  of  a  busi 
ness  executive  in  any  other  walk. 

But  an  excited  whisper  was  just  now  coming  from  be 
hind  the  white-gloved  hand  of  Mrs.  Mitchell.  "Oh! 
look !  "  that  lady  exclaimed,  "  she's  got  her  box  lid  on 
crooked !  " 

It  was  true  that  Miss  Bessie  by  some  restless  twitch  of 
her  head  or  some  rebellious  outburst  of  a  knot  of  that 
crinkly  hair,  had  got  her  mortar  board  rakishly  atilt.  Of 
course,  there  were  other  mortar  boards  askew,  but  Bessie's 
was  individualistically  and  pronouncedly  listed  far  to  port. 
And  she  didn't  care.  Bessie  was  so  brimming  and  beam- 


A  WAY  THAT  WOMEN  HAVE  395 

ing  with  the  happiness  of  life  that  her  whole  being  was 
this  morning  recklessly  atilt. 

But  that  afternoon,  at  about  the  hour  of  three,  in  the 
ample  suite  of  rooms  high  up  on  the  lake  side  of  the  An 
nex,  which  had  been  occupied  by  the  Mitchells  for  a  week, 
there  was  nothing  atilt  at  all  about  the  soul  of  Bessie. 
Her  spirits  were  all  a-droop.  One  single  glance  around 
showed  that  the  busy  preparation  for  the  European  trip 
had  been  suspended.  Wardrobe  trunks  stood  about  on 
end,  their  contents  gaping,  while  dresses  were  draped  over 
screens  and  chairs  and  laid  out  upon  beds ;  but  the  packers 
had  ceased  their  work.  Mrs.  Mitchell,  distracted  between 
parental  love  and  the  fulfillment  of  long  cherished  plans, 
as  well  as  distressed  at  the  exhibition  of  petulant  and  even 
tearful  temper  which  her  daughter  had  been  displaying  for 
an  hour,  walked  restlessly  from  room  to  room. 

"  I  tell  you,  it's  California  for  mine!  "  that  young  lady 
affirmed  in  school-girlish  vernacular,  while  an  impatient 
foot  stamped  the  floor,  a  dimpled  hand  smote  wilfully 
upon  the  arm  of  a  huge,  brocaded  satin  chair,  and  the  blue 
swimming  eyes  burned  with  a  rebellious  light. 

Neither  the  language  nor  the  mood  would  seem  to  be 
come  the  beautiful  Mistress  of  Arts;  but  each  testified  to 
the  survival  of  the  humanness  of  the  young  woman.  In 
justice  to  her,  however,  it  must  be  explained  that  she  had 
not  begun  this  upsetting  of  father's  and  mother's  and  her 
own  cherished  plan  with  impetuous  defiances.  She  had 
begun  gently,  with  sighs,  with  remarks  about  longing  for 
California.  She  felt  so  tired;  she  wished  she  didn't  have 
to  travel  now.  If  she  could  just  go  back  and  walk  under 
the  palms  and  orange  trees  in  dear  old  Los  Angeles ;  if  she 
could  get  one  great  big  bite  of  San  Francisco  fog,  and  see 
a  little  desert  and  a  mountain  or  two,  before  starting  out 
for  this  junky  old  Europe,  she  would  be  reconciled. 

Otherwise,  she  would  not  be  reconciled.     Of  course, 


396  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

she  would  go, —  since  they  had  planned  it  for  so  long,  and 
since  mamma's  heart  was  set  upon  it ;  —  but  she  would  go 
unreconciled. 

Reconciled!  Mrs.  Mitchell  knew  perfectly  well  what 
reconciled  meant,  but  she  did  not  know  just  what  Bessie 
meant  by  dinging  on  that  word. 

After  fifteen  minutes  it  appeared  that  Bessie  was 
through  with  hints.  She  had  begun  to  boldly  propose, 
and  then  earnestly  to  plead,  and  finally  tearfully  to  de 
mand  that  the  European  trip  be  postponed  two  weeks. 

"  But  my  child !  The  trip  is  all  planned.  The  passages 
are  paid  for,  everything  is  ready,"  protested  Mrs.  Mitchell. 

"  But  what's  the  good  of  being  the  slave  of  your  plans? 
You  don't  have  to  do  a  thing  you  don't  want  to  just  be 
cause  you've  planned." 

Bessie's  lip  was  full  and  ripe  when  she  pouted  and  her 
voice  was  freighted  heavily  with  protest  and  appeal. 
How  pretty  her  eyelids  were  when  there  was  a  tear  quiver 
ing  on  the  lashes  like  a  ball  of  quicksilver.  And  how 
really  enchanting  she  looked,  as  with  hair  a  bit  disheveled 
and  color  heightening,  she  went  on  to  argue  impetuously : 

"What's  the  good  of  having  a  private  car?  What's 
the  good  of  being  a  vice-president's  wife  and  daughter, 
if  you  can't  change  your  mind  and  go  galloping  out  to 
California  when  you  feel  like  it?  Back  to  your  own 
home!  Back  to  your  own  people!  Back  where  the 
scenery  is  the  grandest  in  the  world!  Back  where  the 
sky  is  high  enough  that  you  don't  have  to  shoulder  the 
zenith  out  of  the  way  in  the  morning  so  that  you  can 
stand  up  straight  and  take  a  full  breath." 

"  Bessie  Mitchell !  "  exclaimed  her  mother  at  this  junc 
ture,  turning  on  her  offspring  accusingly.  "What  has 
got  into  you?  Something  has !  You're  up  to  something. 
What  is  it?" 

Bessie  brooked  her  mother's  discerning  glance  and  then 


A  \VAY  THAT  WOMEN  HAVE  397 

dodged  it,  very  much  as  if  that  lady  had  hurled  at  her  the 
silver-backed  hair  brush  she  held  in  her  hand. 

"  Why/'  she  exclaimed  with  an  air  of  injured  inno 
cence;  "  nothing  has  got  into  me.  I  was  just  taking  one 
last  look  at  the  California  papers,  and  it  made  me  home 
sick." 

She  made  a  gesture  toward  a  pile  of  papers  that  sur 
rounded  her  chair.  Mrs.  Mitchell  paused  and  cerebrated. 
Somewhere  about  two  o'clock  of  the  afternoon,  Bessie  had 
stepped  to  the  telephone. 

"  Send  me  up  the  last  week  of  San  Francisco  and  Los 
Angeles  papers,"  she  ordered. 

The  papers  came.  She  went  through  the  Los  Angeles 
papers  first,  turning  their  pages  casually,  with  occasional 
comments  to  her  mother.  And  then  she  started  the  San 
Francisco  file,  scanning  this  time  more  swiftly  and  more 
casually  until  upon  the  very  last  of  them  she  became  sud 
denly  absorbed  in  uncommunicative  silence;  after  which 
the  musings  and  the  sighings  had  begun,  followed  by  this 
absurd  proposal,  this  passionate  outburst,  and  this  dead 
lock  of  the  two  women  behind  entrenchments  of  news 
papers  on  the  one  hand  and  barricades  of  trunks  upon  the 
other. 

As  between  her  strong-willed  daughter  and  her  strong- 
willed  self,  Mrs.  Mitchell  knew  that  she  generally  emerged 
defeated.  So  far  now  she  had  been  defeated  —  at  least  to 
the  extent  of  an  armistice.  The  packers  had  been  stopped, 
while  the  argument  went  on. 

But  in  the  meantime  Mrs.  Mitchell  was  violating  the 
rules  of  war  by  bringing  up  reinforcements.  Mr.  Mitchell 
was  on  his  way  over  from  the  Monadnock  Building.  He 
would  soon  settle  Miss  Bessie;  that  is,  if  he  did  not  make 
a  cowardly  and  instant  surrender,  because  Mrs.  Mitchell 
knew  well  enough  he  would  rather  sit  on  the  rear  plat 
form  of  his  private  car  and  watch  the  miles  of  steel  and 


398  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

cinder  stream  from  under  him  for  ten  hours  a  day  for  the 
rest  of  his  life  than  visit  his  native  sod  for  five  minutes. 

When  Mrs.  Mitchell  heard  her  husband's  voice  in  the 
next  room,  she  hurried  out  to  fortify  him. 

Bessie  also  heard  the  voice  and  hurried  to  the  bathroom 
to  remove  traces  of  tears;  for  tears  were  not  powerful 
arguments  with  her  father.  Smiles  went  farther  and 
faster.  Kisses  were  the  deciding  artillery. 

Father  and  mother,  advancing  cautiously  upon  daugh 
ter's  position,  found  it  unoccupied.  But  the  papers  were 
strewn  about.  Mitchell  picked  up  the  one  which  lay  in  the 
chair.  His  glance  was  entirely  casual,  but  suddenly  his 
blue  eye  started  and  then  blazed. 

"  The  hell !  "  he  ejaculated,  and  read  eagerly  down  the 
column. 

"  Well,  I  be  damned !  "  was  his  next  contribution  to  the 
silence. 

Mrs.  Mitchell  stared  at  her  husband  in  amazement. 
Then,  seizing  her  reading  glass,  for  a  reading  glass  was  so 
much  better  form  than  spectacles,  she  glanced  over  her 
husband's  shoulder,  read  the  headline  and  a  few  words 
following. 

"The  deceitfulness  of  that  child!"  she  ejaculated,  an 
expression  of  indignant  amazement  on  her  face,  while  the 
hand  with  the  reading  glass  dropped  to  her  hip,  and  her 
eyes  were  turned  upon  her  husband. 

"  I  always  knew  that  boy's  good-heartedness  would  get 
him  into  trouble  some  day,"  the  good  woman  averred  after 
a  moment. 

"  Well,"  rejoined  her  husband,  in  tones  sharp  with 
emphasis,  "  I'd  back  up  on  a  freight  clear  round  the 
world  to  get  him  out.  Our  trip  to  Europe  is  off.  We  go 
west  on  nine  to-night." 

Mr.  Mitchell  started  for  the  telephone,  and  Mrs. 
Mitchell's  eye  followed  him  approvingly,  a  look  of  sym- 


A  WAY  THAT  WOMEN  HAVE  399 

pathy  and  motherliness  triumphing  over  every  other  ex 
pression  upon  her  face. 

Now  there  wasn't  any  particular  obligation  on  the  part 
of  Robert  Mitchell  to  John  Hampstead.  Hampstead  had 
merely  worked  for  Mitchell  through  eight  years  of  faith 
fulness  in  small  things,  which  was  a  way  that  Hampstead 
had.  But  as  the  Vice-President  of  the  Great  South 
western  looked  back,  those  eight  years  of  faithfulness 
bulked  rather  large,  which,  again,  was  a  way  that  Robert 
Mitchell  had. 

As  to  Bessie!  But  that  is  a  way  that  women  have. 
The  deeper  and  the  more  serious  her  attachment  for  John 
Hampstead  had  grown,  the  more  guilefully  she  had  con 
cealed  that  fact  from  even  the  suspicion  of  her  parents. 
Yet  now  her  disguise  was  penetrated,  she  sobbed  it  all  out 
on  her  mother's  shoulder  and  got  the  finest,  tenderest  as 
surances  of  sympathy  and  enthusiastic  connivance  that 
could  be  vouchsafed  by  one  woman  to  another.  The 
Mitchells  were  that  way.  Let  hearts  and  happiness  be 
concerned,  and  all  other  considerations  of  life  could  ride 
on  the  brake-beams. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

ON    PRELIMINARY   EXAMINATION 

BUT  though  a  very  human  hope  was  in  his  breast,  the 
man  who  went  out  to  face  a  public  hearing  on  Saturday 
morning  upon  a  charge  of  felony  in  the  city  where  a 
week  before  he  had  been  a  popular  idol,  was  not  the 
same  man  who  had  stood  trembling  and  bewildered  in  the 
vault  room. 

Rose  had  noticed  first  merely  a  physical  change  in  her 
brother's  appearance,  as  from  day  to  day  the  situation 
became  more  intense.  She  saw  lines  deepen  on  his  face, 
the  knot  of  pain  grow  again  and  again  upon  his  brow, 
and  the  whiteness  of  his  skin  increase  to  a  point  where 
it  ceased  to  be  white  and  became  a  parchment  yellow, 
only  paler  than  his  tawny  hair.  But  later  she  became 
conscious  that  there  was  taking  place  also  a  spiritual 
change,  a  certain  rare  elevation  of  the  character  of  the 
man,  giving  at  times  the  eerie  feeling  that  this  was  not 
her  brother,  but  some  transfiguration  taking  place  before 
her  eyes. 

When  John  Hampstead  appeared  in  Judge  Brennan's 
court  room,  something  of  this  exaltation  of  character  was 
discernible,  even  to  those  who  had  known  the  minister 
casually.  Desiring  ardently  a  happy  outcome,  the  man 
revealed  in  himself  something  of  a  new  capacity  to  en 
dure  yet  further  reverses. 

Rose,  Dick,  and  Tayna  had  been  determined  to  ac 
company  John  and  to  sit  beside  him  as  he  faced  his  ac 
cusers;  but  he  forbade  this,  declaring  that  it  would  be 


ON  PRELIMINARY  EXAMINATION      401 

construed  by  his  enemies  as  an  attempt  to  create  sym 
pathy. 

Yet,  despite  the  stoutness  of  the  clergyman's  hope  for 
justice,  the  sight  of  the  court  room,  of  Judge  Brennan 
upon  his  bench,  the  clerk  and  the  official  reporter  at 
their  desks,  Searle,  Wyatt,  the  detectives,  the  massed 
spectators, —  packed,  craning,  curious, —  and  the  vast 
crowd  that  had  surged  in  the  streets  about  the  building 
and  in  the  corridors,  through  which  way  had  to  be  made 
for  him,  were  all  such  sinister  reminders  of  the  position 
in  which  he  stood,  that  for  the  time  being  they  crumpled 
the  very  breastwork  of  innocence  itself. 

"  The  case  of  the  People  versus  John  Hampstead,"  an 
nounced  the  judge  in  matter-of-fact  tones. 

There  was  a  slight  movement  among  the  group  of  at 
torneys,  principals,  officers,  and  witnesses  within  the  rail 
and  before  the  long  table,  as  they  either  hitched  chairs, 
or  leaned  forward  with  eyes  and  ears  attentive.  Out 
side,  the  closely  packed  onlookers  breathed  short  in 
hushed  expectancy. 

"  Prisoner  at  the  bar,  stand  up !  " 

It  was  the  monotonous,  unfeeling  voice  of  the  clerk 
who  said  this,  himself  arising. 

Hampstead,  accustomed  as  his  own  legal  battlings  had 
made  him  to  court  formalities  and  to  seeing  men  ar 
raigned  in  just  this  language,  failed  to  comprehend  its 
significance  when  addressed  to  him.  For  an  appreciable 
instant  of  time  he  sat  unheeding,  until  every  eye  in  the 
throng  and  the  glance  of  every  officer  of  the  court 
stabbing  into  his  face  with  inquiring  wonder,  recalled 
him  to  his  position.  Then  he  arose  hastily,  with  traces- 
of  confusion  which  were  so  instantly  repressed  that  when 
necks  already  craned  stretched  a  little  farther,  and  eyes 
already  staring  set  their  gaze  yet  more  intently  on  the 
tall  figure  of  the  man,  they  saw  his  strongly  moulded 


402  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

features  as  gravely  impassive  as  some  weather-blasted 
granite  face  upon  a  mountain. 

But  for  all  its  massy  strength,  it  was  seen  again  to  be 
a  gentle  face.  The  lips  were  firmly  set,  but  the  expres 
sion  of  the  mouth  was  kindly.  The  eyes  were  fixed  upon 
the  clerk  who  read  the  charge  against  him,  while  the 
prisoner  listened  with  a  look  at  once  solemn  and  dutiful, 
for  it  seemed  that  again  John  Hampstead  had  risen 
equal  to  the  height  on  which  he  stood. 

The  tableau  was  an  impressive  one.  It  revealed  the 
majesty  of  man  bowing  before  the  majesty  of  the  law. 
It  seemed  to  portray  at  once  the  ponderousness  and  the 
power  fulness  of  organized  government.  A  woman  who 
was  almost  a  stranger  had  touched  a  tiny  lever  and  set 
the  machinery  of  the  law  in  operation  against  the  most 
shining  mark  in  all  the  community;  and  here  was  the 
man,  with  the  guillotine  of  judgment  poised  above  his 
head,  answerable  for  his  acts  with  his  liberty  and  his 
reputation. 

In  feelingless  monotones  that  galloped  and  hurdled 
through  the  maze  of  technical  phrasings,  the  clerk  read 
the  complaint  which  charged  the  minister  with  the  crime 
of  burglary ;  then,  pausing  for  breath,  he  asked  the  formal 
question : 

"  Is  this  your  true  name  ?  " 

"  It  is,"  the  minister  replied  quietly,  but  in  a  voice  of 
vibrant,  carrying  quality  that  must  have  penetrated  to 
the  outward  corridor,  and  seemed  to  sweep  a  sense  of 
moral  power  to  every  listener's  ear. 

The  voice  was  answered  by  a  sigh,  involuntary  and 
composite,  that  broke  from  somewhere  beyond  the  rail. 
The  hearing  was  on.  The  unbelievable  had  come  to  pass : 
John  Hampstead,  pastor  of  All  People's  Church,  was 
actually  standing  trial  like  a  common  felon. 

Briefly  and  casually  the  Court  instructed  Hampstead 


ON  PRELIMINARY  EXAMINATION      403 

as  to  his  rights  and  that  he  was  entitled  to  be  represented 
by  counsel  of  his  own  choosing,  or  to  have  counsel  ap 
pointed  for  him  by  the  Court. 

The  minister,  still  standing  and  speaking  with  delib 
erate  composure,  thanked  the  Court  for  its  consideration, 
but  stated  that  without  disrespect  to  the  legal  profession 
which  he  greatly .  honored,  he  did  not  feel  that  his  cause 
required  expert  defense;  that  in  his  experience  he  had 
acquired  a  considerable  knowledge  of  court  practice  and 
would  depend  upon  that,  trusting  his  Honor  to  put  him 
right  if  he  stumbled  into  wrong. 

The  judge  nodded  comprehension  and  assent,  and  the 
defendant  sat  down. 

"Are  the  People  ready?"  inquired  the  Court. 

"  We  are,"  answered  the  crisp,  crackly  voice  of  Searle. 

"And  the  defense?" 

Hampstead,  his  arms  folded  passively,  responded  with 
a  slight  affirmative  bow. 

"  We  will  call  Miss  Alice  Higgins,"  announced  Searle, 
his  voice  this  time  reflecting  that  sense  of  the  dramatic 
which  hung  over  the  court  room  like  a  cloud,  impreg 
nating  its  atmosphere  as  if  with  an  electric  charge. 

The  woman  known  as  Marien  Dounay  had  been  sit 
ting  at  the  right  of  Searle,  gowned  in  tailored  black,  her 
person  stripped  of  everything  that  looked  like  ornament. 
The  wide,  flat  brim  of  her  hat  was  carefully  horizontal 
and  valanced  by  a  curtain  of  veiling,  which,  while  black 
and  large  of  cord,  was  wide  meshed  enough  to  show  that 
the  very  colors  of  her  cheeks  were  subdued,  as  if  her 
whole  person  were  in  mourning  over  the  somber  duty  to 
which  she  regretfully  found  herself  compelled.  And  yet 
the  beauty  of  her  features,  adorned  by  the  black  and 
sweeping  eyebrows  and  lighted  by  the  smouldering  jet 
of  her  eyes,  was  never  more  striking  than  now,  when, 
after  standing  for  a  moment,  tall  and  graceful  on  the 


404  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

raised  platform  of  the  witness  chair,  she  sat  down,  and 
leaning  back  composedly,  swung  about  to  where  her 
glance  could  alternate  between  the  eye  of  the  Court  who 
would  hear  her  and  that  of  Searle  who  would  inter 
rogate. 

But  though  her  composure  appeared  complete,  and 
never  upon  any  stage  had  her  magnetic  presence  more 
completely  centered  all  attention  upon  itself  than  in  this 
melodrama  of  real  life,  it  was  none  the  less  noticeable  to 
the  discerning  that  she  had  not  glanced  at  Hampstead, 
whose  sleeve  her  arm  must  have  brushed  in  passing  to 
the  witness  chair ;  and  that  she  still  avoided  looking  where 
he  sat,  but  six  feet  distant,  his  own  eyes  resting  upon  her 
face  with  an  odd,  speculative  light  in  them. 

"  Please  state  your  name,  business  occupation  or  pro 
fession,  and  place  of  residence,"  began  Searle,  putting 
the  opening  interrogatory  in  the  usual  form  through 
sheer  force  of  habit. 

"  I  am  an  actress  by  profession.  My  name  is  Alice 
Higgins;  my  place  of  residence  is  New  York  City." 

"  In  your  profession  as  an  actress  and  to  the  public 
generally  you  are  known  as  Marien  Dounay  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  witness. 

"You  are  the  complainant  in  this  action?  " 

"Yes." 

"  I  will  ask  you,"  began  Searle,  "  if  you  have  ever  seen 
this  necklace  before?" 

He  drew  from  a  crumpled  envelope  that  familiar  tiny 
string  of  fire  and  offered  it  to  the  witness.  Miss  Dounay 
took  it,  passed  it  affectionately  through  her  fingers,  dur 
ing  which  the  brilliance  of  the  gems  appeared  to  be  mag 
nified,  and  then,  holding  the  necklace  by  the  two  ends, 
dropped  it  for  a  moment  upon  her  bosom, —  a  touch  of 
naturalness  that  was  either  the  height  of  art  or  the  su 
preme  of  femininity. 


ON  PRELIMINARY  EXAMINATION      405 

"  They  are  my  diamonds,"  she  replied. 

"  And  what  is  their  value  ?  " 

"  Twenty-two  thousand  dollars." 

"Lawful  money  of  the  United  States?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Now,  Miss  Dounay,"  continued  Searle,  "  will  you 
be  kind  enough  to  relate  to  the  Court  when  and  under 
what  circumstances  you  first  missed  your  diamonds." 

Miss  Dounay  told  her  story  briefly  and  skillfully,  with 
an  appearance  of  reluctance  when  she  came  to  relate  the 
circumstances  and  facts  which  pointed  to  the  minister 
as  the  thief.  She  stated  that  Hampstead  had  always 
shown  curiosity  regarding  the  diamonds  and  had  espe 
cially  questioned  her  concerning  their  value.  As  a 
trusted  friend,  whom  she  had  known  for  years,  and  who 
during  the  last  several  weeks  had  visited  her  frequently 
and  become  rather  frankly  acquainted  with  her  personal 
habits  and  mode  of  life,  he  knew  where  she  kept  the  dia 
monds.  That  so  far  as  she  knew,  he  was  the  only  one 
of  her  acquaintances  who  possessed  this  knowledge;  that 
she  had  worn  the  diamonds  in  company  with  him  during 
the  evening  preceding  the  supper  party,  at  which  she 
appeared  without  them;  that  no  one  but  her  guests  were 
in  this  room  in  which  the  diamonds  were  kept  tempora 
rily,  and  that  no  one  but  him,  so  far  as  she  remembered 
observing,  was  in  that  room  alone;  that  it  was  her  cus 
tom  to  keep  the  box  containing  these  and  other  jewels  in 
the  hotel  safe,  and  when,  after  the  departure  of  her 
guests,  she  went  to  the  casket  to  send  it  down-stairs,  it 
was  gone. 

Her  story  done,  and  to  the  attorney's  complete  satis 
faction,  Searle  then  put  the  final  formal  questions : 

"  This  property  was  taken  against  your  will  and  with 
out  your  consent?" 

"  Yes." 


406  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  This  all  happened  in  the  City  of  Oakland,  County  of 
Alameda  and  the  State  of  California?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  That  is  all,"  concluded  the  prosecutor. 

"  Cross-examine,"  directed  the  Court,  turning  to  the 
defendant. 

"  I  have  no  desire  to  cross-examine,"  replied  the  minis 
ter  quietly,  but  again  with  that  vibrant,  far-carrying  note 
in  his  utterance. 

"  You  are  excused,"  said  the  judge  to  the  actress. 

With  an  expression  of  relief,  Miss  Dounay  left  the 
stand,  still  without  once  having  directed  her  gaze  at  the 
accused,  although  he  continued  from  time  to  time  to  re 
gard  her  fixedly  with  a  curious,  doubtful  look. 

"  Miss  Julie  Moncrief,"  announced  the  prosecutor. 

Red-eyed  and  frightened,  the  French  maid  took  the 
stand.  In  a  trembling  voice,  and  with  at  least  one  ap 
pealing  glance  at  the  minister,  who  appeared  to  regard 
her  more  sympathetically  than  her  own  mistress,  the  little 
woman  gave  her  testimony.  It  told  of  finding  the  de 
fendant  alone  in  this  room  where  the  guests  had  been 
inspecting  the  models  for  the  London  production  of  the 
play.  He  was  not  near  the  table  upon  which  the  models 
were  displayed,  but  standing  by  the  chiffonier,  with  his 
arm  absently  thrown  across  the  corner  of  it,  and  the  hand 
within  a  few  inches  of  the  small  drawer  in  which  the  dia 
monds  reposed  temporarily. 

"What  part  of  his  body  was  toward  the  chiffonier?" 
asked  the  prosecutor. 

"  His  back  and  side." 

"  Where  was  he  looking?  " 

"  Out  toward  the  room  to  which  the  guests  had  with 
drawn." 

"As  if  watching  for  an  opportunity  of  some  sort?" 
suggested  Searle. 


ON  PRELIMINARY  EXAMINATION      407 

Hampstead  started,  and  his  eyes  kindled,  but  he  did 
not  speak.  The  Court,  however,  did. 

"  In  view  of  the  fact,"  interposed  his  Honor,  "  that 
Doctor  Hampstead  is  unrepresented  by  counsel  and  tak 
ing  no  advantage  of  a  technical  defense,  I  will  remind 
you,  Mr.  Searle,  that  your  last  question  calls  for  a  con 
clusion  of  the  witness.  She  may  testify  where  he  was 
looking,  but  she  cannot  tell  what  she  thinks  his  actions 
implied." 

"  Of  course,  your  Honor,  that  is  right,"  confessed 
Searle  quickly.  "  The  witness  is  somewhat  hesitant  and 
embarrassed,  and  the  form  of  my  question  was  inad 
vertent.  Under  the  circumstances,"  he  added  suavely, 
"  I  am  being  especially  careful  not  to  take  advantage  of 
the  defendant." 

"  That  must  be  apparent  to  all,  Mr.  Searle,"  the  judge 
palavered  in  return. 

"Where  was  he  looking?"  queried  Searle. 

Having  been  properly  coached  by  the  attorney's  ques 
tion  and  his  reply  to  the  judge,  the  half  frightened  girl 
faltered : 

"  He  was  looking  out,  as  if  watching  for  an  oppor 
tunity.'3 

Color  mounted  to  the  cheeks  of  the  judge.  Searle 
looked  properly  surprised.  The  defendant  smiled 
cynically. 

"  Strike  out  that  portion  of  the  answer  which  involves 
the  conclusion  as  to  why  he  was  looking  out,"  instructed 
the  judge  solemnly  to  the  reporter. 

"  Certainly,"  exclaimed  Searle  apologetically.  None 
the  less,  he  was  satisfied  with  his  manoeuvre.  He  knew 
the  effect  of  the  little  French  girl's  conclusion  could  not 
be  stricken  out  of  the  mind  of  the  judge  who  had  heard 
it  expressed,  nor  out  of  the  mind  of  the  public  before 
whom  he  was  in  reality  trying  his  case. 


408  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  State  what  further  you  observed,"  directed  the  at 
torney.  "  Did  you  see  him  move,  or  anything?  " 

"  He  did  not  move ;  he  only  smiled  at  me  and  was  still 
there  in  the  same  position  when  I  went  out.  A  few 
minutes  later,  I  was  surprised  to  see  him  bidding  Miss 
Dounay  good  night." 

"  Strike  out  that  the  witness  was  surprised,"  com 
manded  the  Court  sternly,  while  Julie  shivered  at  the 
sharpness  of  Judge  Brennan's  tone. 

"  That  is  all,"  continued  Searle. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  cross-examine?  "  inquired  the  judge, 
directing  his  glance  to  Hampstead. 

"  I  do  not,"  replied  the  minister. 

This  time  the  judge  looked  surprised,  and  there  were 
slight  murmurings,  rustlings,  and  whisperings  beyond  the 
rail.  The  faltering  testimony  of  the  little  maid  had 
driven  another  nail  deeply  in  the  circumstantial  case 
against  the  minister,  and  he  had  not  made  the  slightest 
effort  to  draw  it  out  by  the  few  words  of  cross-examina 
tion  that  might  have  broken  its  hold  entirely.  He  might, 
for  instance,  have  asked  if  she  saw  any  one  else  alone  in 
this  room.  But  the  minister  did  not  ask  it. 

Searle  went  on  piling  up  his  case.  The  detectives 
testified  to  the  arrest  of  the  minister,  to  the  search  of  his 
person  and  house,  and  to  the  finding  of  the  diamonds  in 
the  vault  box,  after  which  the  jewels  themselves  were  in 
troduced  in  evidence  and  marked :  People's  Exhibit 
"  A  ",  while  the  envelope  which  had  contained  them  and 
bore  the  minister's  name  and  address  upon  the  corner, 
became  People's  Exhibit  "  B." 

Each  detective  and  Wyatt  was  asked  to  describe 
minutely  the  actions  of  the  minister  from  the  time  when 
the  personal  search  ending  in  the  discovery  of  the  safe 
deposit  key  was  proposed  until  the  time  when  the  dia 
monds  were  exposed  to  view  upon  the  table  in  the  vault 


ON  PRELIMINARY  EXAMINATION      409 

room.  By  this  means,  Searle  got  before  the  Court  the 
demeanor  of  the  minister  as  indicating  a  consciousness 
of  guilt. 

Relentless  in  pursuing  this  line,  Searle  put  on  the  de 
fendant's  own  bondsmen,  Wilson,  Wadham,  and  Hayes, 
compelling  them  to  describe,  although  with  evident  re 
luctance,  the  impetuous  outburst  against  the  opening  of 
the  box  when  the  bond  was  being  arranged,  and  the 
scene  in  the  vault  to  which  they  had  been  witnesses. 

Wilson,  chafing  at  the  position  into  which  he  was 
forced,  was  further  roused  when  Searle  exclaimed  sud 
denly  : 

"  I  will  ask  you  if  the  defendant,  on  or  about  the  day 
that  these  diamonds  were  stolen,  did  not  approach  you 
for  the  urgent  loan  of  a  considerable  sum  of  money." 

Wilson  glared  and  was  silent. 

"  Did  he,  or  did  he  not?"  persisted  Searle  sharply. 

"  He  did,"  snapped  Wilson. 

"  How  did  he  want  it,  cash  or  checks  ?  " 

"  He  wanted  cash,  but  I  do  not  see,  Mr.  Searle  — "  he 
began. 

"  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Wilson,  but  I  think  you  do  see," 
replied  Searle.  "  Did  you  give  it  to  him?  " 

"  I  did,"  replied  Wilson,  "  and  I  would  have  given 
him  more — " 

"  I  ask  that  a  part  of  this  answer  be  stricken  out,  your 
Honor,  as  volunteered  by  the  witness,  and  not  in  response 
to  the  question,"  demanded  Searle  brusquely. 

"  I  think  we  should  not  let  ourselves  become  too  tech 
nical,"  replied  the  Court,  with  a  chiding  glance  at  Searle, 
for  Mr.  Wilson  was  a  person  of  some  importance  in  the 
community. 

Searle,  slightly  huffed,  again  addressed  the  witness. 

"  Did  the  defendant  tell  you  what  he  wanted  this  large 
sum  of  money  for?" 


410  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  No.     Furthermore  — "  began  the  witness. 

"That  will  do!  That  will  do!"  exclaimed  Searle 
rising,  and  motioning  with  his  hand  as  if  to  stop  the  wit 
ness's  mouth.  "  That  is  all,"  he  added  quickly. 
"  Cross-examine." 

Wilson  turned  expectantly  to  Hampstead.  He  was 
aching  to  be  permitted  to  say  more,  to  offer  testimony 
that  would  break  the  force  of  that  which  he  had  just 
given.  But  the  minister,  comprehending  fully  the  gen 
erous  desire  of  his  friend,  merely  looked  him  in  the  eye 
and  shook  his  head ;  for  this  was  one  of  the  trails  neither 
he  nor  any  one  else  must  be  permitted  to  pursue. 

Having  asked  this  series  of  questions  of  Wilson  about 
the  money,  apparently  as  an  afterthought,  which  it  was 
not,  Searle  then  recalled  Hayes  and  Wadham,  and  put 
the  same  questions  to  them.  Each  made  the  same  at 
tempt  to  qualify  and  enlarge,  but  each  was  carefully  held 
to  a  statement  which  pictured  John  Hampstead  making 
desperate  efforts  among  his  friends  to  raise  quickly  what 
must  have  been  a  very  large  sum  of  money,  for  an  un 
explained  purpose. 

Searle  felt  this  to  be  the  climax  of  his  case. 

"The  People  rest,"  he  exclaimed  with  dramatic  sud 
denness,  sitting  down  and  inserting  a  thumb  in  his  arm- 
hole,  while  after  a  defiant  glance  at  the  minister,  he  turned 
and  scanned  the  spectators  outside  the  rail  for  signs  of 
approval  of  the  skillful  handling  of  their  cause  by  him, 
their  oath-bound  servant. 

But  the  eyes  of  the  spectators  were  on  the  defendant, 
who  now  stepped  to  the  platform  and  stood  with  upraised 
right  hand  before  the  clerk  to  be  sworn.  As  he  composed 
himself  in  the  witness  chair,  his  manner  was  cool  and  even 
meditative.  The  central  figure  in  this  tense,  emotional 
drama,  which  had  every  significance  for  himself,  he 
seemed  scarcely  more  than  aware  of  his  surroundings. 


ON  PRELIMINARY  EXAMINATION      411 

"  My  name,"  he  began  deliberately,  "  is  John  Hamp- 
stead.  I  am  thirty-one  years  old,  and  a  minister  of  the 
gospel.  I  reside  in  the  County  of  Alameda.  I  am  the 
person  named  in  this  complaint.  I  was  at  Miss  Dounay's 
supper  party,  although  I  did  not  stay  to  supper.  I  was 
probably  in  the  exact  position  described  by  the  maid,  for 
I  believe  her  to  be  truthful.  However,  I  do  not  remem 
ber  the  incident,  beyond  the  fact  that  the  group  gradu 
ally  withdrew  from  this  room,  and  I  remained  there  in 
reflective  mood  for  a  short  interval.  I  saw  Miss 
Dounay's  diamonds  last  that  evening  when  she  excused 
herself  from  the  company  to  change  her  costume.  I  saw 
them  next  the  morning  after,  upon  the  desk  in  my 
study." 

The  minister  paused.  The  massed  audience  leaned 
forward,  intent  and  breathless.  Now  his  real  defense 
was  beginning.  His  manner,  balanced  and  impersonal, 
was  carrying  conviction  with  it.  The  man  was  the  de 
fendant —  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  —  yet  he  spoke  delib 
erately,  as  if  not  himself  but  the  truth  were  at  issue. 

"  They  were  brought  there,"  the  witness  was  saying, 
"  by  a  man  who  told  me  that  he  had  stolen  them.  He 
appeared  to  be  excited.  Indeed,  his  condition  was  piti 
able.  I  advised  him  to  immediately  return  the  diamonds 
to  Miss  Dounay,  confess  his  crime  to  her,  and  throw  him 
self  upon  her  mercy ;  but  there  were  circumstances  which 
made  it  impossible  for  him  to  act  immediately.  That  is 
all." 

The  minister  turned  from  the  Court,  whom  he  had 
been  addressing,  and  faced  Searle,  as  if  awaiting  cross- 
examination.  The  audience  had  listened  with  painful 
interest  to  the  minister's  story.  The  manner  of  it  had 
unquestionably  carried  conviction,  but  its  very  un- 
bolstered  simplicity  had  in  it  something  of  the  shock 
which  provokes  doubt.  This  effect  was  heightened  by 


412  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

its  extreme  brevity  and  a  suggestion  of  reticence  in  the 
narrative. 

"  Have  you  concluded  ?  "  asked  the  Court,  reflecting 
the  general  surprise. 

"  I  have,"  replied  the  minister,  with  the  same  quiet 
voice  in  which  he  had  given  his  testimony. 

"  Begin  your  cross-examination,"  instructed  Judge 
Brennan. 

"  Who  is  the  man  who  brought  these  diamonds  to 
you?"  asked  Searle,  hurling  the  question  swiftly. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you,"  answered  the  minister  gravely. 

"  Why  can  you  not  tell  ?  "  The  voice  of  Searle  was 
harshly  insistent.  "  Don't  you  know  who  the  man  was  ?  " 

"  I  do,  most  assuredly." 

"  Why  can  you  not  tell  it?  " 

"  Because  the  secret  is  not  mine." 

"Not  yours?"  A  sneer  appeared  on  the  lips  of 
Searle. 

"  It  came  to  me  by  way  of  the  Protestant  confessional," 
explained  the  minister. 

"  The  Protestant  confessional !  What  do  you  mean 
by  that?  "  barked  the  prosecutor. 

"  Simply,"  replied  the  minister,  "  that  the  instinct  of 
confession  is  very  strong  in  every  nature  moved  to  peni 
tence  and  a  hope  of  reform;  so  that  every  minister  and 
priest  of  whatever  faith  becomes  the  repository  of  a  vast 
number  of  confessions  of  fault  and  failure,  some  trivial 
and  some  grave.  I  used  the  term  '  Protestant  confes 
sional  '  because  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  erects  the 
confessional  to  a  place  of  established  and  formal  im 
portance.  In  most  other  communions  it  is  merely  in 
cidental  to  pastoral  experience,  but  none  the  less  it  is  a 
factor  in  all  effort  at  rehabilitation  of  character." 

"  And  you  will  not  give  the  name,  even  to  protect  your 
self?" 


ON  PRELIMINARY  EXAMINATION      413 

"  It  is  not/'  replied  the  witness,  "  a  matter  in  which 
I  feel  that  I  have  any  choice.  The  confession  was  not 
made  to  me  as  an  individual,  but  to  me  as  a  minister  of 
God.  I  will  hold  that  confidence  sacred  and  inviolate  at 
whatever  cost  until  the  Day  of  Judgment." 

Dramatically,  though  unconsciously,  the  witness  lifted 
his  right  hand,  as  though  he  renewed  an  oath  to  God. 

For  the  first  time,  too,  the  utterance  of  the  defendant 
had  betrayed  personal  feeling,  and  for  a  moment  there 
was  a  sheen  upon  his  features,  as  of  a  man  who  had 
toiled  upward  through  shadows  to  where  the  light  from 
above  broke  radiantly  upon  his  brow. 

"  And  you  take  advantage  of  the  fact  that  such  a  con 
fession  as  you  allege  is  privileged  under  the  law  and  need 
not  be  testified  to  by  you  ?  " 

"  As  I  said  before,"  reiterated  the  minister,  with  a 
calm  dignity  that  refused  to  be  ruffled  by  the  sneer  in  the 
cross-examiner's  question,  "  I  do  not  feel  that  the  secret 
is  mine." 

The  impression  that  at  this  point  the  witness  was  re 
tiring  behind  intrenchments  that  were  very  strong  was 
no  more  lost  upon  Searle  than  upon  the  spectators,  and 
he  immediately  attacked  from  another  quarter. 

"  We  are  to  understand,  then,  Doctor,  that  your  guilty 
demeanor  which  has  been  testified  to  by  your  friends  as 
well  as  the  officers  was  entirely  because  you  knew  the 
discovery  of  the  diamonds  in  your  box  would  lend  color 
to  the  charge  made  against  you  ?  " 

This  was  another  trail  that  Hampstead  must  not  allow 
to  be  pursued. 

"  You  are  at  liberty  to  make  whatever  interpretation 
of  my  demeanor  you  wish,  Mr.  Searle,"  he  replied,  a 
trifle  tartly. 

"  Yes,  Doctor  Hampstead ;  we  are  agreed  upon  that," 
rejoined  the  prosecutor  dryly,  at  the  same  time  making 


414  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

a  gallery  play  with  his  eyes.  "  You  say,"  Searle  con 
tinued  presently,  "  it  was  temporarily  impossible  for  the 
man  who  brought  these  diamonds  to  you  to  return  them 
to  Miss  Dounay.  Why  did  you  not  return  them  your 
self  instead  of  placing  them  in  your  vault  to  await  the 
convenience  of  the  thief?  " 

The  insulting  scorn  of  the  latter  part  of  this  question 
was  meant  to  be  diverting  to  the  audience  as  well  as 
highly  disconcerting  to  the  witness,  but  the  minister 
smothered  the  sneer  by  replying  sincerely  and  cour 
teously  : 

"  I  felt,  Mr.  Searle,  that  my  problem  was  to  rebuild  in 
the  man  a  sense  of  responsibility  to  a  trust  and  the 
courage  to  act  upon  a  moral  impulse.  Wisely,  or  un 
wisely,  I  insisted  that  the  entire  procedure  of  restoration 
should  devolve  upon  the  penitent  himself.  His  first 
spiritual  battle  was  to  nerve  himself  to  face  the  owner  of 
the  diamonds." 

"  Precisely,"  observed  Mr.  Searle  smoothly,  abandon 
ing  the  jury  rail,  against  which  he  had  been  leaning,  to 
balance  himself  upon  the  balls  of  the  feet  and  rub  his 
palms  blandly.  "  And  in  the  meantime,  while  this  thief 
was  gathering  his  courage,  did  your  consideration  for 
your  friend,  Miss  Dounay,  impel  you  to  notify  her  that  the 
diamonds  were  in  your  custody  and  would  be  returned 
to  her  very  soon?" 

"  Not  alone  was  I  impelled  to  do  that,"  replied  the 
minister;  "but  the  unfortunate  man  urged  such  a  step 
upon  me.  I  declined  for  the  same  reason.  My  entire 
course  of  action  was  dictated  by  a  desire  to  make  this 
man  morally  stronger  by  compelling  him  to  assume  and 
discharge  his  own  responsibilities.  I  was  willing  to 
point  out  the  course ;  but  he  must  walk  the  way  alone.  I 
will  forestall  your  next  question  by  saying  that  for  the 
same  reason  I  did  not  notify  the  police." 


ON  PRELIMINARY  EXAMINATION      415 

Searle  was  nettled  by  the  easy  compactness  with  which 
the  minister  cemented  the  walls  of  his  defense  more 
closely  by  each  reply  to  the  questions  in  cross-examina 
tion. 

"  You  are  aware,  Mr.  Hampstead,"  he  thundered  with 
a  sudden  change  of  tactics,  "  that  the  act  which  you  have 
just  set  forth,  so  far  from  setting  up  a  defense  to  this 
charge,  proves  you  guilty  under  the  law  as  an  accessory 
after  the  fact." 

"  I  am  not  aware  of  it,"  replied  the  minister,  with  dis 
tinct  emphasis.  "  My  impression  was  that  the  law  con 
siders  not  only  an  act  but  the  intent  of  the  act.  The  in 
tent  of  my  act  was  not  to  conceal  a  crime,  but  to  recon 
struct  the  character  of  a  man." 

Searle  darted  a  hasty  and  apprehensive  glance  at  the 
massed  faces  behind  the  rail. 

"  That  is  all/'  he  exclaimed  dramatically,  with  a  cyn 
ical  smile  and  an  uptoss  of  his  hands,  calculated  cleverly 
to  portray  his  opinion  of  the  utter  lack  of  standing  such 
replies  as  those  of  the  minister  could  gain  him  in  a  court 
of  justice. 

Judge  Brennan  looked  at  Hampstead.  "  Have  you 
anything  in  rebuttal  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Nothing,"  replied  the  minister,  arising  and  stepping 
down  to  his  chair  at  the  long  table,  where  he  remained 
standing  while  the  attentive  expression  of  Court  and 
spectators  indicated  appreciation  that  the  climax  of  the 
defendant's  effort  was  at  hand. 

The  very  bigness  of  the  thing  the  man  was  trying  to 
do  was  in  some  sense  an  attest  of  character,  and  here  and 
there  among  the  onlookers  ran  little  currents  of  reviving 
sympathy  for  the  clergyman,  who  stood  waiting  quietly 
for  the  moment  in  which  to  begin  his  final  effort  as  an 
attorney  in  his  own  behalf. 

Keenly  sensitive  to  the  subtlest  emotions  of  the  crowd, 


416  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

he  understood  perfectly  well  that  the  effect  of  his  testi 
mony  had  been  at  least  sufficient  to  secure  a  verdict  of 
suspended  judgment  from  the  spectators;  and  he  ex 
pected  far  more  from  the  balanced  mind  of  the  judge; 
so  that  it  was  with  a  feeling  of  renewed  confidence,  al 
most  an  anticipation  of  triumph,  that  he  prepared  to 
make  the  final  move. 

"If  the  Court  please,"  he  began  dispassionately,  as  if 
pleading  for  a  cause  that  had  no  more  than  an  abstract 
meaning  for  himself,  "  I  desire  to  move  at  this  time  the 
dismissal  of  the  complaint,  upon  the  ground  that  the  evi 
dence  is  insufficient  to  warrant  the  holding  of  the  de 
fendant  for  trial  before  the  Superior  Court." 

The  minister  stopped  for  breath,  and  there  was  an 
other  of  those  strange,  composite  sighs  from  beyond  the 
rail. 

"  In  support  of  that  motion,"  and  a  note  of  growing 
significance  appeared  in  the  speaker's  tone,  "  I  argue 
nothing,  except  to  ask  this  Court  to  accept  as  true  every 
word  of  testimony  spoken  by  every  witness  heard  upon 
the  stand  this  morning." 

The  Court  looked  puzzled,  but  the  ministerial  de 
fendant  went  on : 

"  I  believe  the  truth  has  been  spoken  by  Miss  Dounay 
—  by  the  maid  —  by  the  officers  —  and  by  my  own 
friends.  Yet  the  facts  testified  to  may  be  true," — the 
minister's  voice  rose, — "  and  the  inference  to  which  they 
point  be  wickedly  and  damnably  false !  It  is  so  with  this 
case ;  for  be  it  noted  that  I  ask  your  Honor  to  consider 
also  that  my  testimony  is  true.  It  denies  no  statement; 
it  controverts  no  fact  in  the  case  of  the  prosecution.  On 
the  contrary,  it  confirms  them;  but  it  also  explains  them." 
Again  the  defendant's  voice  was  rising.  "  It  confirms 
the  facts,  but  it  utterly  refutes  the  inference  that  this 
defendant  at  the  bar  is  guilty.  Consider  the  entire  fabric 


ON  PRELIMINARY  EXAMINATION      417 

of  evidence  as  a  seamless  garment  of  truth,  and  you  can 
dismiss  the  complaint  with  an  untroubled  brow.  Reason 
is  satisfied !  Justice  is  done !  " 

Hampstead  paused,  and  a  shade  of  apprehension  came 
to  his  face,  for  his  eye  had  traveled  for  a  moment  to  that 
massed  expectancy  without  the  rail. 

"  The  verdict  of  your  Honor  is  to  me," —  Hampstead 
in  his  growing  earnestness  had  abandoned  the  fictional 
distinction  between  the  pleader  and  his  client, — "  of  more 
than  usual  importance,  for  by  it  hangs  the  verdict  of  the 
people  whose  interest  is  attested  by  those  packed  benches 
yonder.  Without  disrespect  to  your  Honor,  I  can  sa} 
that  I  care  more  for  their  verdict  than  for  that  of  any 
twelve  men  in  any  jury  box  or  any  judge  upon  any  bench. 

"  But  under  the  circumstances  the  whole  people  cannot 
actually  judge  —  they  can  only  be  my  executioners. 
They  have  not  heard  me  speak.  They  can  not  look  me 
in  the  eye,  nor  observe  by  my  demeanor  whether  I  speak 
like  an  honest  man  or  a  contemptible  fraud.  They  see 
me  only  through  a  cloud  of  skillfully  engendered  suspi 
cion.  They  hear  my  voice  only  faintly  amid  a  clamorous 
confusion  of  poisoned  tongues.  Your  Honor  must  see 
for  them,  and  speak  for  them.  Your  Honor's  verdict 
will  be  their  verdict.  I  tremble  for  that  verdict.  I  plead 
for  it ! 

"  I  ask  your  Honor  to  take  account  of  the  difficulty 
of  my  position,  presuming,  as  the  law  instructs  the  Court 
to  presume,  that  it  is  the  position  of  an  innocent  person. 
Bound  by  the  most  inviolable  vow  which  a  man  can  take, 
I  am  unable  to  offer  to  you  a  conclusive  defense  by 
presenting  the  man  who  committed  the  crime.  He  may 
be  in  this  court  room  now,  cowering  with  a  consciousness 
of  his  guilt  and  in  awe  at  beholding  its  consequences  to 
the  one  who  has  helped  him.  He  may  be  an  officer  of 
this  Court;  he  might  be  your  Honor,  sitting  upon  the 


4i8  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

bench,  which,  of  course,  is  unthinkable  —  yet  no  more 
unthinkable  to  me  than  that  I  should  be  charged  with 
this  crime.  But  though  he  be  here  at  my  very  side,  I 
cannot  reach  out  my  hand  and  say :  '  That  is  the  man.' 
I  will  not  touch  him  nor  look  at  him.  Unless  he  speaks 
—  and  I  confess  that  there  is  an  outside  reason  why  I 
should  absolutely  forbid  him  to  speak  —  there  is  no  de 
fense  that  can  be  offered,  beyond  the  simple  story  I  have 
told  you. 

"  May  I  not,  also,  without  being  accused  of  egotism, 
remind  your  Honor  that  if  it  is  decided  that  I  appear 
sufficiently  guilty  to  warrant  a  criminal  trial  in  the  Su 
perior  Court,  my  work  in  this  community  will  be  at  an 
end." 

The  minister  was  speaking  for  the  first  time  with  a 
show  of  deep  feeling,  and  an  indulgent  sneer  appeared 
upon  the  lips  of  Searle.  This  was  not  legitimate  argu 
ment.  Yet  a  mere  preacher  might  not  be  supposed  to 
know  it,  and  therefore  he,  Searle,  would  magnanimously 
allow  the  man  to  talk  himself  out,  if  his  Honor  did  not 
stop  him. 

But  the  Court  was  also  complaisant,  and  the  minister 
went  on  with  passionate  earnestness  to  plead ; 

"  Regardless  of  the  ultimate  verdict  of  a  jury,  the 
stigma  of  a  felony  trial  will  be  upon  me  for  life.  From 
this  very  court  room  I  shall  be  taken  to  your  identification 
bureau.  I  shall  be  weighed,  stripped,  measured  —  my 
thumb  prints  taken  —  my  features  photographed  like 
those  of  any  criminal !  " 

As  Hampstead  proceeded,  his  speech  began  to  be 
punctuated  with  spasmodic  breaks,  as  if  the  prospective 
humiliation  was  one  at  which  his  sensitive  nature  revolted 
violently. 

"  And  those  finger  prints,"  he  labored  — "  those  meas 
urements  —  and  that  photograph  —  will  become  a  part 


ON  PRELIMINARY  EXAMINATION      419 

—  of  the  criminal  records  —  of  the  State  of  California 

—  for  as  long  as  the  paper  upon  which  they  are  made 
shall  last!" 

"  No !  No ! !  No ! ! !  "  shrilled  a  hysterical  voice  that 
burst  out  suddenly  and  ended  as  abruptly  as  it  began. 

Strangely  enough  it  was  the  complaining  witness  who 
had  cried  out.  She  had  risen  and  stood  with  hands  out 
stretched  protestingly  to  the  minister,  while  whispering 
hoarsely :  "  It  cannot  be !  It  cannot  be !  " 

"  Madam ! "  thundered  the  minister,  viewing  the 
woman  sternly,  his  own  emotion  of  self -sympathy  dis 
appearing  at  this  unexpected  sign  of  softness  in  her, 
while  his  eyes  blazed  indignantly :  "  That  is  a  police 
regulation  which  by  long  custom  has  come  to  have  all 
the  force  of  law.  If  you  doubt  it,  your  accomplice  there 
will  so  inform  you !  " 

Hampstead,  as  he  uttered  the  last  words,  had  shifted 
his  blazing  glance  to  Searle,  who  at  first  disconcerted  and 
endeavoring  to  pull  Miss  Dounay  back  into  her  seat,  now 
rose  and  turned  toward  the  defendant,  his  own  face 
aflame,  and  hot  words  poised  upon  his  tongue. 

But  Judge  Brennan  was  rapping  for  silence. 

"Compose  yourself,  madam!"  he  ordered  sternly. 

But  before  the  minister's  accusing  glance,  Miss  Dounay 
was  already  dropping  back  into  her  chair,  and  as  if  in 
dismay  at  her  outbreak,  buried  her  face  in  her  hands, 
while  Searle,  quivering  with  fury,  snarled  out : 

"  I  resent,  your  Honor,  with  all  my  manhood,  the 
epithet  which  this  defendant  has  gratuitously  and  insult 
ingly  flung  at  me." 

"  Be  seated,  Mr.  Searle,"  commanded  the  judge. 
"  Doctor  Hampstead's  position  is  very  distressing.  He 
will  withdraw  the  objectionable  epithet." 

"  I  withdraw  it,"  acknowledged  the  minister,  recover 
ing,  his  poise ;  yet  he  said  it  doggedly  and  uncompromis- 


420  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

ingly,  qualifying  his  withdrawal  with :  "  But  your  Honor 
will  take  into  account  that  the  manner  of  the  repre 
sentative  of  the  District  Attorney  has  been  offensive  to 
me,  though  some  of  the  time  veiled  by  an  exaggerated 
pretense  of  courtesy.  It  has  seemed  to  me  the  manner  of 
an  accomplice  of  the  complaining  witness,  and  I  withdraw 
the  statement  more  out  of  respect  to  this  Court  than  out 
of  consideration  for  him." 

Searle  glared,  but  resumed  his  seat,  giving  vent  to  his 
temper  in  a  violent  jerk  of  his  chair  as  he  dropped  into  it. 

'  You  may  conclude  your  remarks,"  observed  the  Court 
to  Hampstead. 

"  There  is  nothing  to  add,"  replied  the  minister,  after 
a  reflective  interval,  "  except  to  urge  again  that  your 
Honor  consider  the  grave  consequences  of  yielding  to  a 
one-sided  view  of  the  case.  I  ask  only  that  truth  be 
honored  and  justice  done!  " 

With  this  the  defendant  sat  down. 

Miss  Dounay  appeared  to  have  regained  her  com 
posure,  but,  white  and  still,  her  glance  was  now  fixed  as 
noticeably  upon  the  face  of  the  defendant  as  before  she 
had  markedly  avoided  it. 

With  a  hitch  to  his  vest  and  a  forward  thrust  of  the 
chin,  Searle  rose  to  attack  the  plea  of  the  defendant. 

"  Your  Honor  may  well  ask  with  Pilate :  '  What  is 
truth?'  '  he  began,  the  manner  of  his  speech  showing 
that  while  his  self-control  was  admirable,  his  mood  was 
that  vindictive  one  into  which  many  a  prosecutor  appears 
to  work  himself  when  arising  to  assail  the  cause  of  a 
defendant. 

"  However,"  he  prefaced,  "  I  must  first  apologize  to 
your  Honor  for  the  momentary  loss  of  control  on  the  part 
of  the  complaining  witness.  Your  Honor  will  realize 
that  her  emotions  were  wantonly  and  deliberately  played 
upon  by  the  defendant  in  a  skillful  endeavor  to  create 


ON  PRELIMINARY  EXAMINATION      421 

sympathy  for  himself.  The  fact  that  he  succeeded  so 
readily  is  an  eloquent  bit  of  testimony  to  the  sympathetic 
nature  of  this  estimable  and  brilliant  woman,  to  the  ease 
with  which  her  confidence  is  gained,  and  the  painful  re 
luctance  with  which  she  performs  her  duty  in  this  sad 
case :  for  any  way  we  view  it,  it  is  a  sad  case,  your  Honor, 
and  no  one  regrets  more  than  I  the  harsh  words  which 
must  be  spoken  in  the  course  of  my  own  duty  to  the 
people  of  this  county. 

"  However/'  and  Searle  paused  for  a  moment  as  if 
both  gathering  breath  and  steeling  himself  for  the  vicious 
assault  he  proposed  to  make :  "  Addressing  myself  to 
the  plea  of  the  defendant  for  a  dismissal  of  this  case,  I 
must  say  flatly  that  the  motion  itself,  the  argument  to 
support  it,  and  the  testimony  upon  which  it  is  based, 
constitute  the  most  audacious  combination  of  effrontery 
and  offensive  egotism  to  which  a  court  was  ever  asked  to 
listen.  I  congratulate  your  Honor  upon  the  patience  and 
self-control  with  which  you  have  contained  yourself  while 
permitting  this  defendant  to  go  on  from  statement  to 
statement,  involving  himself  deeper  in  this  dastardly 
crime  with  every  word. 

"  If,  your  Honor,  in  all  my  days  at  the  bar  as  a 
prosecutor,  I  have  ever  looked  into  the  face  of  a  guilty 
man,  it  is  the  face  of  this  man!  —  this  egotist!  —  this 
boastful  braggart! — "  As  Searle  hurled  each  epithet, 
he  worked  his  passion  higher  and  shook  an  offensively, 
impudently  accusing  finger  at  the  defendant;  "this  hypo 
crite  !  —  this  paddler  of  the  palms  of  neurasthenic 
women !  —  this  associate  of  criminals !  —  this  shepherd 
of  black  sheep,  who  now  sits  here  with  a  sneer  upon  his 
lips  —  lips  which  have  just  committed  the  most  appalling 
sacrilege  by  seeking  to  cloak  the  guilt  of  a  dastardly  act 
with  the  sacred  gown  of  a  priest  of  God ! " 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  there  was  no  sneer  discernible  to 


422  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

any  one  else  upon  the  lips  of  the  defendant.  At  first 
smiling  at  the  mock- fury  into  which  Searle  was  lashing 
himself,  they  had  become  white  and  bloodless  under  the 
sting  of  these  heaped-up  insults.  But  this  last  was  more 
than  the  man  could  stand  in  silence. 

"  Is  my  position  so  defenseless,  I  ask  your  Honor," 
Hampstead  interrupted,  "  that  I  am  compelled  to  endure 
this?" 

The  judge  bestowed  a  chiding  glance  upon  the  attorney, 
but  replied  to  the  minister: 

"  A  certain  liberty  is  allowed  the  prosecutor." 

"  But  that  liberty  should  not  be  a  license  to  defame !  " 
protested  the  defendant. 

"  Am  I  to  be  permitted  to  proceed  with  my  argument 
or  not  ?  "  bawled  Searle  in  his  most  bullying  manner, 
while  he  glared  at  the  audacious  minister. 

"  You  may  proceed,"  replied  the  Court,  affecting  not 
to  notice  the  disrespect  with  which  it  had  been  addressed. 

Searle  continued,  lapsing  now  into  an  argumentative 
strain. 

"  The  defendant  himself  has  said  that  the  case  against 
him  is  without  a  flaw.  He  has  had  the  effrontery  to 
urge  that  your  Honor  accept  the  testimony  against  him 
as  true  testimony.  He  has  only  argued  that  if  we  are 
to  believe  the  witnesses  for  the  prosecution,  we  are  also 
to  believe  him.  I  say  —  I  affirm  with  all  the  force  at  my 
command  —  that  we  are  not  to  believe  him  at  all! 

"  I  ask  your  Honor  to  consider  first  the  motive  for  his 
testimony.  The  man  is  hopelessly  involved.  The  charge 
of  burglary  is  a  simple  one,  compared  with  the  broader 
indictment  of  moral  profligacy  which  the  whole  com 
munity  is  at  this  moment  prepared  to  find  against  him. 
Ruin  stares  him  in  the  face.  His  pose  is  shattered.  His 
disguise  is  penetrated.  If  he  goes  from  this  court  room 
to  the  identification  bureau  of  which  he  has  spoken  in 


ON  PRELIMINARY  EXAMINATION      423 

his  mawkish  plea  for  sympathy,  as  I  believe  he  will  go, 
he  goes  to  be  catalogued  with  criminals,  and  to  be  damned 
forever  in  the  esteem  of  his  neighbors. 

"  To  avert  that,  would  not  your  Honor  expect  this  de 
fendant  to  be  willing  to  perjure  himself  without  a  qualm? 
Will  a  man  who  has  lived  a  lie  before  a  whole  community 
for  five  years  hesitate  to  add  another  in  an  endeavor  to 
avert  his  impending  fate?  Will  a  man  who  has  stolen 
the  jewels  of  his  trusted  friend  hesitate  to  swear  falsely 
in  denial  of  such  an  act?  Will  a  man  who  has  worked 
upon  the  sympathy  of  his  friends  to  secure  large  sums 
of  money  for  a  purpose  so  doubtful  that  it  is  undis 
closed  —  Will  he  hesitate  to  work  upon  the  sympathies 
here  by  words  and  implications,  by  innuendoes  that  are  as 
false  to  religion  as  to  fact  ? 

''  Your  Honor  knows  that  he  would  not  so  hesitate. 
Your  Honor  knows,  through  long  familiarity  with  the 
law  of  evidence,  that  the  testimony  of  a  defendant  in  his 
own  behalf,  because  of  his  intense  interest  in  the  outcome 
of  his  case,  is  always  to  be  weighed  with  extreme 
care. 

"  I  believe  under  such  circumstances  not  only  the  mo 
tives,  the  springs  of  action,  but  the  probable  mental  proc 
esses  of  the  witness  are  to  be  taken  into  account.  I 
ask  your  Honor  what  a  defendant  involved  in  the  mesh 
of  circumstantial  evidence  here  presented  would  probably 
do  under  these  circumstances.  Your  own  judgment  an 
swers  with  mine  that  he  would  probably  lie,  and  exactly 
as  this  defendant  has  lied !  " 

Again  Searle  turned  and  shook  his  long  arm  with 
insulting  undulations  in  the  direction  of  the  defendant, 
after  which  he  continued : 

"  Turning  from  probabilities  to  experience,  I  ask  your 
Honor  out  of  his  memory  of  years  of  service  upon  the 
bench,  what  does  the  arrested  thief  —  taken  like  this  one, 


424  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

with  the  loot  in  his  possession  —  what  does  he  do? 
Why,  he  either  confesses  his  crime,  or  he  tells  you  that 
he  is  not  the  thief  but  an  innocent  third  party,  who  un 
wittingly  received  the  loot  from  the  man  of  straw,  whom 
his  imagination  and  his  necessities  have  created.  That 
latter  alternative  is  the  defense  of  this  alleged  minister  of 
the  Gospel!  He  had  not  the  honesty  to  confess,  but  tells 
instead  that  same  old  lie  which  criminals  and  felons  have 
been  telling  in  that  same  witness  chair  since  this  Court 
was  first  established. 

:t  Yet  this  defendant's  story  has  not  even  the  merit  of  a 
pretense  to  ignorance  that  the  goods  he  held  were  stolen 
goods.  He  boldly  admits  that  he  knew  they  were  stolen ; 
that  he  was  personally  acquainted  with  the  owner;  that 
he  knew  the  distress  of  her  mind;  knew  the  police  de 
partments  of  half  a  dozen  cities  were  searching  for  the 
jewels,  and  that  the  newspapers  were  giving  the  widest 
publicity  to  the  facts  and  thus  joining  in  the  chase  for 
loot  and  looter.  And  yet  he  calmly  permits  these  dia 
monds  to  repose  in  his  vault  with  never  a  word  or  hint 
to  calm  the  distress  of  his  friend  or  relieve  the  peace 
officers  of  burdensome  labors  in  which  they  were  engag 
ing  and  the  unnecessary  expense  which  they  were  thus 
putting  upon  the  taxpayers  who  support  them! 

"  Why,  your  Honor,  if  the  witness's  own  story  is  true, 
he  has  given  this  Court  an  abundant  ground  for  holding 
him  to  answer  to  the  Superior  Court,  not  indeed  upon  the 
exact  charge  named  in  that  complaint,  but  as  an  acces 
sory  after  the  fact  to  said  charge. 

"  But  it  is  not  true.  To  use  his  own  phrase,  it  is  wick 
edly  and  damnably  false!  So  palpably  false  that  it  col 
lapses  upon  the  mere  examination  of  your  Honor's  mind 
without  argument  from  me. 

"  Yet  I  cannot  close  without  calling  attention  to  the 
sheer  recklessness  with  which  this  thief  and  perjurer  has 


ON  PRELIMINARY  EXAMINATION      425 

heightened  the  infamy  of  his  position  by  an  act  of  brazen 
sacrilege.  He  has  sought  to  make  plausible  his  weak, 
unimaginative  lie  that  he  received  these  goods  instead  of 
stealing  them,  by  pretending  that  he  received  them  in  his 
capacity  as  a  religious  confessor,  under  conditions  that 
bound  him  to  a  silence  which  the  voice  of  God  alone 
could  break. 

"  That,  in  itself,  is  a  claim  that  should  bring  the  blush 
of  shame  to  the  cheek  and  rouse  the  hot  resentment  of 
every  honest  minister  and  of  every  honest  priest,  and 
make  them  join  with  the  outraged  feelings  of  honest  lay 
men  and  of  citizens  generally  in  demanding  that  justice 
descend  upon  this  man  and  strike  him  from  the  pedestal 
of  self-righteous  egotism  upon  which  he  stands. 

"  Turning  again  for  a  moment  to  the  question  of  prob 
abilities  :  I  ask  your  Honor  if  it  is  probable,  even  think 
able,  that  any  minister,  standing  in  the  position  of  regard 
in  which  this  minister  stood  last  Sunday  morning  be 
fore  the  eyes  of  his  people,  would  deem  a  crisis  like  this 
insufficient  to  unseal  his  lips  and  absolve  him  from  his 
confessional  vows?  His  very  duty  to  his  God  and  to  his 
congregation,  to  the  poor  dupes  of  his  hypocrisy,  to  say 
nothing  of  his  duty  to  himself,  would  compel  him  to  go 
upon  the  witness  stand  voluntarily  and  reveal  the  name 
of  the  alleged  thief! 

"  Such  a  consideration  again  forces  upon  any  unbiased 
mind  the  conviction  that  this  man  is  not  speaking  the 
truth.  View  him  as  a  thief,  and  you  suspect  that  his 
story  is  a  lie.  Try  to  view  him  as  a  minister,  acting 
honestly  and  in  good  faith,  and  you  no  longer  suspect, 
but  you  deeply  and  unalterably  know  that  his  story  is  a 
lie!" 

Searle,  now  at  the  height  of  his  self-induced  passion, 
as  well  as  at  the  climax  of  his  argument,  stood  bent  over, 
his  eyes  blazing  at  the  judge,  his  face  red,  his  neck  swol- 


426  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

len,  his  features  working  in  rage,  and  his  voice  deepening 
to  a  bull-like  roar,  while  with  an  upper-cut  gesture  of  his 
clenched  fist  and  right  arm,  he  appeared  to  lift  the  words 
to  some  mighty  height  and  hurl  them  like  a  thunder  bolt 
of  doom. 

The  minister,  sitting  with  every  muscle  taut,  as  he 
strained  under  the  viciousness  of  this  assault,  felt  just 
before  its  climax  some  insensible  cause  directing  his  gaze 
from  the  face  of  his  official  accuser  to  that  of  his  real 
Nemesis,  the  actress,  and  was  surprised  to  see  her  crouch 
ing  like  a  tigress  for  a  spring,  with  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
prosecutor,  and  a  look  of  unutterable  malice,  hate,  and 
loathing  in  their  savage  beams. 

But  with  this  scene  thrown  for  a  moment  on  the  screen 
of  his  mind,  the  suddenly  sobering  utterance  of  Searle 
indicated  that  he  was  concluding  his  argument,  and  the 
defendant's  eyes  returned  quickly  to  the  attorney's  face. 

"  For  these  reasons,  your  Honor,"  the  man  was  say 
ing,  "  so  patent  and  bristling  from  the  testimony  that  I 
need  not  even  have  spoken  of  them  in  order  to  bring 
them  to  your  attention,  I  ask  you  to  find  that  the  offense 
as  charged  in  the  complaint  has  been  committed,  and  that 
there  is  sufficient  cause  to  believe  the  defendant  guilty 
thereof,  and  to  order  that  he  be  held  to  answer  before 
the  Honorable,  the  Superior  Court  of  the  County  of 
Alameda  and  the  State  of  California." 

Searle  sat  down  and  wiped  his  brow, —  confident  that 
he  had  added  greatly  to  his  reputation  by  a  masterly  ar 
gument  which  had  sealed  the  fate  of  a  man,  against 
whom,  despite  the  minister's  suspicions,  he  really  had 
nothing  in  the  world  but  that  instinct  for  the  chase  to 
which,  once  a  strong  nature  gives  up,  it  may  find  itself 
led  on  to  excesses  that  are  the  extreme  of  injustice. 

The  audience  moved  restlessly  yet  silently,  shifting 
cramped  muscles  tenderly  and  rubbing  strained  eyes ;  but 


ON  PRELIMINARY  EXAMINATION      427 

still  alert  for  the  issue  of  the  scene  which  in  one  hour 
and  fifty  minutes  had  been  played  from  one  climax  to 
another. 

"  You  have  the  opportunity  to  reply,"  said  the  Court, 
addressing  Hampstead. 

"  The  spirit  and  the  manner  of  this  address  is  its  own 
reply,"  answered  the  defendant  quickly,  believing  hope 
fully  that  it  was. 

But  the  audience,  more  discerning  than  the  defendant, 
issued  the  last  of  its  long-drawn  collective  sighs,  fore 
seeing  that  the  drama  was  now  at  its  inevitable  end. 

In  sharp,  machine-like  tones,  the  verdict  of  Judge 
Brennan .  was  pronounced : 

"Held  to  answer!     Bail  doubled!    Adjourned!" 

The  gavel  fell  sharply,  and  the  eyes  of  the  Court 
darted  a  warning  glance  beyond  the  rail  as  if  to  forestall 
a  possible  demonstration  of  any  sort.  But  there  was 
none.  A  kind  of  restraint  appeared  to  hold  the  court 
and  spectators  in  thrall.  Then  the  official  reporter  closed 
his  notebook  with  an  audible  whisk ;  the  clerk,  gathering 
his  papers,  snapped  them  loudly  with  rubber  bands;  and 
the  judge  arose  and  started  toward  his  chambers,  while 
Wyatt  moved  over  and  took  his  place  significantly  by  the 
side  of  Hampstead.  As  if  this  broke  the  spell,  there  was 
a  shuffling  of  many  feet,  while  the  minister  was  immedi 
ately  surrounded  by  his  bondsmen  and  a  few  friends. 
The  friends  pressed  his  hand  and  stepped  away  into  the 
outgoing  crowd;  but  the  bondsmen  went  with  him  into 
the  judge's  chambers,  where  the  new  surety  was  quickly 
executed.  After  this,  wringing  the  hand  of  each  of  the 
three  men  feelingly,  Hampstead  asked  to  be  excused. 

"  I  have  an  humiliating  experience  to  undergo,"  he  ex 
plained,  with  a  meaningful  glance  at  Detective  Larsen 
who,  representing  the  Bureau  of  Identification,  stood 
waiting.  "  I  prefer  to  face  that  humiliation  alone." 


428  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  I  understand,"  exclaimed  Wilson,  his  face  flushing. 
"  It  is  a  damned  outrage !  I  didn't  know  such  a  thing 
could  be  done.  I  thought  every  man  was  presumed  in 
nocent  until  proven  guilty!  Instead  of  that,  they  put 
him  in  the  Rogues'  Gallery !  " 

1  You  are  as  innocent  as  an  angel  from  heaven," 
averred  the  white-bearded  Wadham  extravagantly,  as 
he  laid  an  affectionate  hand  upon  the  shoulder  of  the 
younger  man. 

"  You  are,  indeed,"  echoed  Hayes,  his  voice  hoarse 
with  emotion.  "  I  confess  again  that  we  doubted  for  a 
time,  but  your  character  rises  triumphant  to  the  test." 

The  minister  was  unwilling  to  trust  himself  to  further 
speech ;  for  his  disappointment  with  the  verdict  had  been 
great,  and  the  sympathetic  loyalty  of  these  trusted  friends 
made  self-control  difficult,  so  with  only  a  nod  of  com 
prehension,  he  turned  quickly  to  where  Detective  Larsen 
waited. 

It  was  nearly  one  hour  later  when  the  minister, 
clothed  again,  stepped  out  upon  the  street.  Behind  him 
was  his  record  in  the  criminal  history  of  the  State  of 
California.  He  had  seen  his  name  go  into  the  card 
index  with  a  wife  murderer  on  one  side  of  him  and  the 
author  of  an  unmentionable  crime  upon  the  other.  With 
the  sickening  memory  of  his  loathsome  ordeal  searing  his 
brain  he  was  only  half-conscious  of  the  clatter  and  bang 
of  the  busy  city  life  about  him.  Mercifully  the  gaping 
crowd  had  dispersed.  Hurrying  people  went  this  way  and 
that,  intent  upon  their  own  concerns.  But  a  newsboy,  in 
tent,  too,  on  his  concerns,  thrust  the  noon  edition  of 
The  Sentinel  before  the  minister's  eyes.  Seeking  the 
headline  by  habit,  as  the  eyes  of  the  victim  turn  to  the 
torturing  irons,  he  read  in  letters  as  black  and  bold  as 
any  he  had  seen  that  week,  the  verdict  of  Judge  Bren- 
nan. 


ON  PRELIMINARY  EXAMINATION       429 

"  HELD  TO  ANSWER !  " 

Instinctively  Hampstead  paused,  like  a  man  in  a  daze, 
then  passed  his  hand  before  his  eyes  to  blot  the  black 
letters  from  his  sight.  In  the  identification  bureau,  the 
meaning  of  those  three  words  had  just  been  defined  to  the 
most  sensitive  part  of  his  nature  in  abhorrent  and  revolt 
ing  terms.  The  sight  of  that  headline  to  be  flaunted 
on  every  street  corner  was  like  seeing  these  words,  with 
their  loathsome  connotation,  spread  upon  a  banner  that 
arched  over  the  whole  sky  of  life  for  him.  It  over 
whelmed  him  with  a  sense  of  the  public  obloquy  to  which 
he  was  now  to  be  subjected. 

On  the  street  car,  as  he  rode  homeward,  the  minister 
felt  the  eyes  of  the  people  upon  him, —  curiously  he 
knew,  derisively  he  imagined;  yet  some  were  in  reality 
sympathetic.  The  conductor,  as  he  took  the  clergyman's 
nickel,  touched  his  hat  respectfully,  thus  subtly  indicating 
that  there  was  some  vestige  of  religious  character  still 
outwardly  attaching  to  his  person.  And  a  workman, 
his  tools  in  his  hand  and  the  stain  of  his  craft  upon  his 
clothes,  leaned  over  and  touched  the  minister  upon  the 
arm. 

"  My  boy  was  playing  the  ponies  in  Beany  Webster's 
place,"  he  said.  "  You  saved  him  for  me.  I  don't  care 
what  else  you  done;  if  they  ever  got  me  on  the  jury, 
there's  one  would  never  convict  you  of  anything." 

The  minister  recognized  the  friendliness  of  the  remark 
with  a  cordial  smile,  and  put  out  his  hand  to  grasp  grate 
fully  the  soiled  one  of  the  toiler.  That  handclasp  was 
immensely  strengthening  to  him.  He  felt  as  if  he  had 
taken  hold  of  the  great,  steadying  hand  of  God. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

A   PROMISE  OF   STRENGTH 

LATE  in  the  afternoon  of  this  day,  which,  it  will  be 
remembered,  was  Saturday,  the  minister  had  three 
callers  in  tolerably  prompt  succession.  The  first  to  ap 
pear  was  the  Angel  of  the  Chair,  hailing  the  minister 
with  a  smile  as  if,  instead  of  disgrace,  he  had  achieved 
a  triumph. 

Hampstead's  sad  face  lighted  with  sheer  joy  at  her 
manner.  It  was  such  a  relief  that  she  had  not  come  to 
commiserate  him.  His  mood  was  extremely  subtle.  It 
irritated  him  to  be  pitied;  it  stung  him  to  be  doubted. 
He  only  wanted  to  be  believed  and  to  be  encouraged  by 
those  who  did  believe  him.  This  fragile  blossom  of  a 
woman  who,  with  all  her  gentleness  and  weakness,  had 
yet  in  her  breast  the  battling  spirit  of  the  martyrs  of  old, 
touched  just  the  right  note,  as  after  an  interval  of  sym 
pathetic  silence,  she  asked  gently,  with  a  voice  full  of 
the  tenderest  consideration,  "  Can  you  —  can  you  see  it 
to  the  end?" 

"To  the  end?" 

Hampstead  lifted  his  brows  gravely.  "  You  mean  — 
conviction  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  with  that  simple  directness  which 
showed  that  she  was  blinking  no  phase  of  the  question. 
"  Is  the  issue  big  enough  to  require  such  a  sacrifice  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  think  it  is  too  improbable  it  could  go  to  that 
length,"  Hampstead  answered  thoughtfully. 

"  But  it  might !  Is  it  worth  it  ?  "  Mrs.  Burbeck  per 
sisted. 


A  PROMISE  OF  STRENGTH  431 

The  calm  sincerity  of  her  manner  poised  the  question 
like  a  lance  aimed  at  his  heart. 

Hampstead  hesitated.  He  really  had  not  thought  as 
far  as  this,  any  farther  in  fact  than  the  hateful  smudge 
of  the  thumb  print  and  the  picture  in  the  Gallery  of 
Rogues.  But  now,  with  her  considerately  calculating 
glances  upon  him,  he  did  think  that  far,  weighing  all 
his  hopes,  his  work,  his  position  at  the  head  of  All 
People's,  his  priceless  liberty,  his  fathomless  love  for 
Bessie,  against  the  pledged  word  of  a  priest  to  a  weak 
and  penitent  thief,  whose  soul  at  this  moment  trembled 
on  the  brink,  suspended  alone  by  the  spectacle  of  the  in 
tegrity  of  the  confessor  to  his  vow. 

He  weighed  his  duty  to  this  thief  now  somewhat  as 
five  years  before  he  had  weighed  his  duty  to  Dick  and 
Tayna  against  the  supreme  ambition  of  his  life.  The 
stakes  then,  on  both  sides,  large  as  they  had  seemed,  were 
infinitely  smaller  than  the  values  at  issue  now.  Looking 
back,  John  knew  that  then  he  had  not  only  made  the 
right  decision,  but  the  best  decision  for  himself.  He 
thought  that  he  was  humbling  himself;  but  instead  he 
had  exalted  himself. 

But  now  the  lines  were  not  so  sharply  drawn.  He 
was  renouncing  his  very  position  and  power  to  do  his 
duty. 

"Is  it?" 

Mrs.  Burbeck  half -looked  and  half -breathed  this  gentle 
reminder  that  she  had  asked  her  pastor  a  question. 

"  I  believe,"  said  the  minister,  revealing  frankly  the 
trend  of  his  thought,  "  that  the  nearest  duty  is  the  great 
est  duty;  that  the  man  who  spares  himself  for  some 
great  task  will  never  come  to  a  great  task.  I  hold  that 
a  man  ought  to  be  true  in  any  relation  of  life;  and 
when  the  issue  is  drawn  between  one  duty  and  another, 
he  should  try  to  determine  calmly  which  is  the  highest 


432  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

duty  and  be  true  to  that.  I  shall  try  to  be  that  in  this 
case  —  even  to  conviction !  " 

The  sheen  upon  the  face  of  the  woman  as  she  listened 
was  as  great  as  the  glow  upon  the  face  of  the  man  as  he 
spoke. 

"  That  is  a  very  simple  religion,"  Mrs.  Burbeck  con 
curred  happily,  "  and  it  contains  the  larger  fact  of  all 
religion.  That  is  why  Jesus  went  to  the  cross;  because 
he  was  true.  That  was  why  the  grave  couldn't  hold  him ; 
because  he  was  true.  You  cannot  bury  truth,  nor  brand 
it,  nor  photograph  it,  nor  put  its  thumb  prints  in  a  book, 
nor  put  stripes  upon  it." 

Hampstead  arose  suddenly,  enthusiasm  kindling  like 
the  glow  of  inspiration  upon  his  face.  "  That  is  why 
I  still  feel  free  —  unscathed  by  what  has  happened,"  he 
exclaimed.  "  In  a  small  and  comparatively  unimportant 
way  it  has  been  given  to  me  to  be  true.  Yes,"  he  said, 
sitting  down  again  and  speaking  very  soberly,  "  I  shall 
be  true  to  the  end  —  conviction,  imprisonment  even. 
Prison  terms  do  not  last  forever;  and  every  day  spent 
there  will  be  a  witness  to  the  fact  that  I  am  true."  Ex 
alted  enthusiasm  had  passed  on  for  a  moment  to  a 
strained  note  that  sounded  like  fanatical  egotism. 

As  if  to  check  this  Mrs.  Burbeck  asked  quietly  but 
with  a  significance  that  was  arresting: 

"  Are  you  strong  enough,  do  you  think  ?  " 

For  a  moment  the  minister  was  thoughtful  and  some 
thing  like  a  shudder  of  apprehension  swept  over  him. 

"  No,"  he  replied  humbly.  "  I  begin  to  confess  it  to 
myself.  The  fear  that  I  will  weaken  begins  to  come 
to  me  at  times." 

"  That  is  good,"  the  Angel  of  the  Chair  commented 
surprisingly,  gathering  her  scarf  about  her  shoulders  as 
she  spoke.  '  "It  is  better  to  be  too  weak  than  to  be  too 
strong.  But  strength  will  be  given  you.  That  is  what 


A  PROMISE  OF  STRENGTH  433, 

I  came  to  say.  I  feel  strangely  weak  myself,  to-day,  and 
must  be  going  now." 

"  You  should  not  have  come,"  reproached  the  min 
ister,  as  he  helped  Mori,  the  Japanese,  to  wheel  her  to 
the  door ;  "  and  yet  I  am  so  glad  you  did  come,  for  you 
have  made  me  feel  like  some  chivalrous  champion  of 
eternal  right  jousting  in  the  lists  against  an  impious 
Lucifer." 

For  this  the  Angel  gave  him  back  a  smile  over  the  top 
of  her  chair,  and  the  minister  watched  her  out  of  sight, 
reflecting  that  in  the  few  days  since  this  strain  upon  them 
all  began  she  had  failed  perceptibly,  and  recalling  that 
never  before  had  he  heard  her  allude  to  her  weakness 
or  make  her  physical  condition  the  excuse  for  anything 
she  did  or  did  not  do. 

tWithin  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  so  soon  almost  that  it 
seemed  as  if  he  had  been  waiting  for  his  wife  to  depart, 
Elder  Burbeck  was  announced  as  the  second  caller  at 
Doctor  Hampstead's  door. 

For  the  five  years  of  his  eldership  before  the  advent 
of  Hampstead,  Elder  Burbeck  had  a  record  in  the  official 
board  of  never  permitting  any  subject  to  be  passed  upon 
without  a  word  from  him,  nor  ever  having  allowed  any 
question  to  be  considered  settled  until  it  was  settled 
according  to  the  dictates  of  the  thing  he  supposed  to  be 
his  conscience. 

At  their  first  momentary  clash  on  the  day  when  Hamp 
stead,  the  book  agent,  had  broken  open  the  church  which 
Burbeck  had  nailed  up,  the  older  man  thought  he  sensed 
in  the  younger  the  presence  of  a  spiritual  endowment 
greater  than  his  own.  To  this  the  ruling  Elder  had 
bowed  within  himself.  Externally,  his  manner  was  not 
changed,  nor  his  leadership  affected.  To  the  con 
gregation  his  submission  to  the  final  judgment  of  the 
minister  was  accounted  as  a  virtue.  Instead  of  weaken- 


434  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

ing  him,  it  strengthened  his  own  standing  with  the  mem 
bership. 

While  Burbeck  had  at  times  voiced  his  protests  to  the 
pastor  at  what  he  felt  to  be  mistaken  sentimentalism,  and 
while  the  protests  had  been  dismissed  at  times  with  an 
unchristian  impatience,  there  was  no  one  to  whom  the 
events  and  disclosures  of  this  terrible  week  of  headlines 
had  been  more  surprising  or  more  shocking  than  to  the 
meticulous  apostle  of  the  status  quo.  Upon  the  Elder's 
metallic  cast  of  mind  each  revelation  impacted  with  the 
shattering  effect  of  a  solid  shot.  Through  a  thousand 
crevices  thus  created,  suspicion,  rumor,  and  the  stream 
of  truths,  half-truths,  and  lies  percolated  to  the  bed  of 
reason.  His  mind  was  without  elasticity.  The  school 
of  logic  in  which  he  had  been  trained  reasoned  coldly, 
by  straight  lines  to  rectangular  conclusions.  There  was 
no  place  for  allowances  or  adjustments.  Once  a  stitch 
was  dropped,  there  was  no  picking  it  up,  and  the  blemish 
was  in  the  garment. 

So  he  reasoned  now  about  Hampstead.  The  minister, 
having  been  weak  once,  must  have  also  been  wicked; 
being  brittle,  he  must  have  been  broken;  frail,  he  must 
have  been  fractured.  Having  been  wicked,  broken,  frac 
tured,  this  explained  his  immense  sympathy  for  and  ca 
pacity  to  reach  other  frail,  weak,  brittle  men  and  women ; 
but  it  did  not  justify  his  pose  as  a  pillar  unscathed  by 
fire.  Loving  All  People's  as  he  loved  himself,  his  wife, 
his  brilliant  son, —  with  pride  and  self-complacence, — 
Burbeck  felt  hot  resentment  at  the  disgrace  which  the 
disclosures  and  the  flood  of  scandal  brought  upon  the 
church. 

Searle  himself  had  not  believed  many  of  the  charges 
he  hurled  against  Hampstead  in  his  concluding  speech. 
Elder  Burbeck,  who  heard  that  speech  from  behind  the 
rail,  believed  it  all.  Believing  it,  and  believing  in  his 


A  PROMISE  OF  STRENGTH  435 

mission  to  purge  the  church  of  this  impostor,  his  zeal 
roused  him  to  the  point  where  he  forgot  to  be  logical. 
He  believed  the  preacher  was  a  thief,  a  liar  and  a  hypo 
crite;  and  at  the  same  time  believed  that  he  had  told  the 
truth  upon  the  witness  stand  in  his  own  defense.  But 
this  only  made  his  sin  more  heinous.  He  was  harboring 
some  crook  —  some  other  man,  weak,  frail,  brittle, 
wicked  as  himself.  That  man  was  necessarily  a  hypo 
crite,  a  whited  sepulcher,  posing  before  the  community 
as  a  pillar  of  virtue.  It  would  be  an  act  of  righteous 
ness  to  find  and  expose  that  man.  But  who  could  it  be  ? 
Somebody  at  that  supper,  of  course.  Now  it  might  be 
Haggard,  managing  editor  of  The  Sentinel;  newspaper 
men  were  always  suspicious  characters,  anyway;  and 
surely  Hampstead  was  under  obligations  to  Haggard. 
Haggard,  with  all  his  publicity,  had  given  the  minister 
his  first  fame,  and  for  years  supported  him  upon  his 
pedestal  as  a  public  idol.  Yes,  it  probably  was  Hag 
gard.  But  whoever  it  was,  Burbeck  undertook  in  his 
mind  a  second  mission ;  to  find  and  expose  and  brand  the 
thief  whom  the  minister  was  protecting. 

With  no  more  fiery  fanaticism  did  the  followers  of 
Mohammed  set  out  with  the  sword  to  purge  the  world  of 
infidels  than  did  Elder  Burbeck  purpose  to  purge  All 
People's  of  its  pastor  and  wring  from  the  lips  of  Hamp 
stead  the  secret  of  another's  crime. 

He  entered  the  minister's  study  with  a  pompous  dig 
nity  that  was  ominous.  His  face  was  as  red,  the  bony 
protuberances  on  his  boxlike  and  hairless  skull  were  as 
prominent,  as  ever.  His  shaggy  eyebrows  lent  their 
usual  fierceness  to  the  steel  gleam  of  his  blue  eye.  His 
close-cropped  gray  mustache  clung  perilously  above  lips 
that  were  straight  and  unsmiling. 

"  Good  evening,  Hampstead,"  he  said,  with  a  falling 
inflection. 


436  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

This  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  failed  to  say 
"Brother"  Hampstead. 

The  minister  had  risen  to  greet  his  visitor,  but  subtly 
discerning  in  the  first  appearance  of  the  man  the  mood  in 
which  he  came,  had  not  advanced,  but  stood  with  his 
desk  between  them,  waiting. 

"  How  are  you,  Burbeck !  "  the  minister  replied  evenly. 
This  was  also  the  first  time  he  had  failed  to  address  the 
Elder  as  "  Brother."  He  was  rather  surprised  at  him 
self  for  omitting  it  now  and  took  warning  therefrom  that 
his  feelings  were  poised  upon  hair  triggers. 

The  Elder  saw  in  the  minister's  manner  instant  con 
firmation  of  his  conclusions.  The  man  had  not  the  spirit 
of  Christ.  He  met  hard  looks  with  hard  looks.  This 
was  well.  It  made  the  Elder's  task  the  easier.  He  could 
proceed  at  once  to  business. 

In  his  hand  he  held  a  copy  of  the  last  edition  of  The 
Sentinel,  and  now  he  spread  the  paper  across  the  desk 
before  the  clergyman's  eye.  The  same  old  headline  was 
there,  "  HELD  TO  ANSWER,"  but  in  the  center  of  the 
page  was  a  frame  or  box  which  contained  a  half-tone,  a 
smear,  and  a  short  column  of  black-face  type,  both  words 
and  figures. 

Hampstead  saw  at  a  glance  that  it  was  a  printed  copy 
of  his  Bertillon  record.  The  smear  was  his  thumb  print ; 
the  picture  was  his  picture,  a  half-tone  of  the  bald,  un- 
retouched  photograph  of  himself  which  had  been  made 
for  the  Gallery  of  Rogues,  and  across  the  bottom  of  the 
picture  was  a  suggestive  space,  in  which  was  printed : 

"  No. ?  "  The  inference  sought  to  be  conveyed  was 

clear.  So  great  was  the  sense  of  pain  which  Hampstead 
felt  that  it  was  reflected  in  the  glance  he  turned  upon  the 
Elder,  a  glance  that  came  as  near  to  an  appeal  for  pity 
as  any  that  had  yet  been  in  the  clergyman's  eye.  But 
it  met  no  response  from  the  stern  old  Puritan. 


A  PROMISE  OF  STRENGTH  437 

"  Be  seated !  "  the  minister  said,  a  trifle  sadly. 

"  I  can  say  what  I've  got  to  say  better  if  I  stand,"  re 
plied  the  Elder  tersely.  "Of  course  you'll  resign !  " 

A  look  of  intense  surprise  crossed  the  face  of  Hamp- 
stead. 

"  Resign  what  ?  "  he  asked,  with  raised  brows. 

"  Why,  the  pulpit  of  All  People's!  " 

The  minister  stared  in  amazement.  Burbeck  also 
stared,  but  in  impatience,  during  an  interval  of  silence 
in  which  Hampstead  had  full  opportunity  to  weigh  again 
the  manner  of  his  visitor  and  appraise  its  meaning. 

"  No,"  the  young  man  replied  within  a  minute,  firmly 
but  almost  without  inflection,  "  I  shall  not  resign." 

"  Then,"  declared  Burbeck  aggressively,  "  the  pulpit 
of  All  People's  will  be  declared  vacant."  The  Elder's 
chin  was  raised,  and  implacable  resolution  was  photo 
graphed  upon  his  features. 

Again  Hampstead  paused,  and  weighed  and  sounded 
the  really  sterling  character  of  this  honest  old  man,  whose 
pride  was  as  inflexible  and  undeviating  as  the  rule  of  his 
moral  life.  He  saw  him  not  as  a  fanatical  vengeance, 
but  as  a  father.  He  thought  of  Rollie,  of  the  man's 
pride  in  his  son,  and  of  what  a  crushing  blow  it  would  be 
to  him  to  know  the  plight  in  which  that  son  really  stood 
to-day.  It  brought  to  him  the  memory  of  something  he 
had  read  somewhere :  "  The  more  you  do  for  a  man,  the 
easier  it  is  to  love  him  and  to  forgive  him."  His  feeling 
now  was  not  of  resentment,  but  of  sympathy.  He  felt 
very  sorry  for  the  Elder  and  for  the  position  in  which  he 
stood. 

"  Why,  Brother  Burbeck,"  he  reproached  softly,  "  All 
People's  would  not  do  that.  You  would  not  let  them  do 
that.  When  you  have  stopped  to  think,  you  would  not 
let  me  resign  even.  If  I  am  convicted  by  a  jury,  I  should 
have  to  resign;  but  a  jury  would  not  convict,  I  think. 


438  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

Besides,  many  things  can  happen  before  that.  My  ac 
cuser,  who  knows  I  am  innocent,  might  relent.  It  is  even 
more  conceivable  that  a  condition  might  arise  under 
which  the  thief  could  speak  out,  and  I  should  be  vindi 
cated." 

The  upper  lip  of  Burbeck  curled  till  it  showed  a  tooth 
and  then  straightened  out  again.  The  minister  con 
tinued  to  speak: 

"  To  resign  now  would  amount  to  a  confession  of 
guilt.  To  force  me  to  resign  would  be  an  act  of  treach 
ery.  I  am  guilty  of  nothing,  proven  guilty  of  nothing. 
I  am  assailed  because  of  the  whimsical  caprice  of  a  half- 
crazed  woman.  I  am  temporarily  helpless  before  that  as 
sault  because  I  am  faithful  to  my  vows  as  a  minister  of 
All  People's,  vows  which  I  took  kneeling,  with  your 
hand  upon  my  head.  In  spirit  I  am  unscathed,  as  your 
own  observations  must  show  you.  If  my  reputation  is 
wounded,  it  is  a  wound  sustained  in  the  course  of  my 
duty,  and  it  is  the  part  of  All  People's  and  every  mem 
ber  of  it  to  rally  valiantly  to  my  support.  If  I  were  not 
persuaded  that  they  would  do  this,  I  should  be  gravely 
disheartened." 

The  manner  in  which  Hampstead  spoke  was  clearly 
disconcerting  to  the  Elder.  He  felt  again  that  conscious 
ness  of  moral  superiority  before  which  he  had  bowed  un 
til  bowing  had  become  a  habit.  But  now  he  had  more 
information.  Reason  stiffened  the  back  of  prejudice. 
He  knew  that  this  assumption  of  the  minister  was  a 
pose.  His  conviction  was  this  time  strong  enough  to 
avert  its  spell;  and  he  answered  unmoved,  except  to 
deeper  feeling,  with  still  harsher  utterance: 

"  Then  Hampstead,  you  will  be  disheartened !  All 
People's  shall  never  support  you  again.  I  have  called 
a  meeting  of  the  official  board  for  to-night.  I  shall  pre 
sent  a  resolution  declaring  the  pulpit  vacant.  If  they 


A  PROMISE  OF  STRENGTH  439 

recommend  it,  it  will  be  acted  upon  to-morrow  morning 
by  the  congregation.  If  they  do  not  receive  it,  I  shall 
myself  bring  it  before  the  congregation." 

A  look  of  deepening  pain  crossed  the  features  of  the 
minister. 

"  Not  to-morrow,"  he  pleaded,  his  voice  choking 
strangely;  "not  to-morrow.  I  have  been  counting 
greatly  on  to-morrow.  It  has  been  a  hard  week. 
Man !  "  and  Hampstead  suddenly  arose,  "  man,  have  you 
not  heart  enough  to  realize  what  this  has  been  to  me.  I 
long  passionately  for  the  privilege  of  standing  again  in 
the  pulpit  of  All  People's.  I  want  them  to  see  how  un 
daunted  in  spirit  I  am.  I  want  them  to  judge  for  them 
selves  the  mark  of  conscious  innocence  upon  my  face. 
I  want  to  feel  myself  once  more  under  the  gaze  of  a 
thousand  pairs  of  eyes,  every  one  of  which  I  know  is 
friendly.  I  want  the  whole  of  Oakland  to  know  that  my 
church  is  solidly  behind  me;  that  though  in  a  Court  of 
Justice  I  am  '  Held  to  Answer  ',  in  the  Court  of  the  Lord 
and  before  the  jury  of  my  own  church,  I  stand  approved, 
with  the  very  stigma  of  official  shame  recognized  as  a 
decoration  of  honor." 

Hampstead  had  walked  around  the  desk.  He  lifted 
his  hand  in  appeal  and  sought  to  lay  it  upon  the  shoulder 
of  the  Elder  to  express  the  sympathy  and  the  need  of 
sympathy  which  he  felt. 

But  Burbeck  deliberately  moved  out  of  reach,  replying 
sternly  and  perhaps  vindictively : 

"  Hampstead !  You  do  not  appear  to  appreciate  your 
position.  You  will  never  again  stand  in  the  pulpit  of  All 
People's.  That  is  one  sacrilege  which  you  have  com 
mitted  for  the  last  time.  More  than  that,  I  hold  it  to  be 
my  duty  to  God  to  wring  from  your  own  lips  the  secret 
of  the  man  whom  you  are  shielding,  and  I  shall  find  a 
way  to  do  it !  I  — " 


440  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

But  the  man's  feeling  had  overmastered  his  speech. 
His  body  shook,  his  face  was  purple  with  the  vehemence 
of  anger.  He  lifted  his  hand  as  if  to  call  down  an  im 
precation  when  words  had  failed  him,  then  abruptly 
turned,  unwilling  to  trust  himself  to  further  speech,  and 
made  for  the  outside  door.  It  closed  behind  him  with 
a  bang  that  left  the  key  rattling  in  the  lock. 

Perhaps  this  noise  and  the  sound  of  the  Elder's  clump 
ing,  heavy  feet  as  they  went  down  the  steps,  prevented 
the  minister  from  hearing  the  chugging  of  a  motor-car 
as  it  was  brought  to  a  stop  in  front. 

Elder  Burbeck,  hurrying  directly  across  the  street  to 
relieve  his  feelings  by  getting  away  quickly  from  what 
was  now  a  house  of  detestation,  almost  ran  into  the  huge 
black  shape  drawn  up  before  the  curb.  He  backed  away 
and  lunged  around  the  corner  of  the  car  too  quickly  to 
notice  the  figure  that  emerged  from  it,  or  his  emotions 
might  have  been  still  more  hotly  stirred. 

Hampstead,  sitting  at  his  desk,  trying  to  think  calmly 
.of  this  new  danger  which  threatened  him,  and  to  reflect 
upon  the  irony  of  the  circumstance  by  which  the  father 
of  the  man  and  the  husband  of  the  mother  he  was  risking 
-everything  to  protect,  should  become  the  self-appointed 
Nemesis  to  hurl  him  from  his  pulpit  and  wrest  the  secret 
from  his  lips,  heard  faintly  the  ring  at  the  front  door, 
heard  the  door  close,  and  an  exclamation  from  his  sister 
in  the  hall,  followed  by  silence  which,  while  lasting  per 
haps  no  more  than  a  few  seconds,  was  quite  long  enough 
for  him  to  forget,  in  the  absorption  of  his  own  thoughts, 
that  some  one  had  entered  the  house.  Hence  he  started 
with  surprise  when  the  inner  door  was  opened,  and  Rose 
appeared,  her  white,  strained  features  expressing  both 
fright  and  hate.  She  closed  the  door  carefully  behind 
her  and  whispered  hoarsely :  "  That  —  that  woman  is 
here!" 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

THE  TERMS   OF  SURRENDER 

"WHAT  woman?"  asked  Hampstead,  in  disinterested 
tones,  too  deeply  absorbed  in  the  half  cynical  reflection 
which  the  mission  of  Elder  Burbeck  had  induced  to  real 
ize  that  there  was  but  one  woman  to  whom  his  sister's 
manner  could  refer. 

"  That  —  that  woman !  "  replied  Rose  again,  unable  to 
bring  herself  to  mention  the  name. 

"  Oh,"  exclaimed  her  brother  absently,  but  starting  up 
from  his  reverie.  "  Oh,  very  well ;  show  her  in,"  he 
directed.  His  tone  and  gesture  indicated  that  nothing 
mattered  now. 

Rose  was  evidently  surprised  at  her  brother's  instruc 
tion  and  for  once  inclined  to  protest  the  supremacy  of  his 
will. 

"  You  are  not  going  to  see  her  again?  "  she  argued. 

"  I  know  of  no  one  who  should  be  in  greater  need  of 
seeing  me,"  John  rejoined,  with  sadness  and  reproach 
mingled  in  equal  parts. 

"  But  alone?     Think  of  the  danger !  " 

"  Seeing  her  alone  has  done  about  all  the  harm  it  could 
do,"  the  brother  replied,  with  a  disconsolate  toss  of  his 
hands,  while  the  drawn  look  upon  his  face  became  more 
pronounced.  "  Show  her  in !  " 

Rose  turned  back  with  a  cough  eloquent  of  dissenting 
judgment  and  left  the  door  flung  wide.  John  at  his  dis 
tance  sensed  her  feeling  of  outrage  in  the  fierce  rustling 
of  her  skirts  as  she  receded  down  the  hall,  and  presently 
heard  her  voice  saying  icily :  "  The  open  door !  " 


442  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

The  minister  smiled,  with  half-guilty  satisfaction. 
His  sister  had  refused  Miss  Dounay  the  courtesy  of  her 
escort  to  the  study.  He  suspected  that  Rose  had  even 
refused  to  look  at  the  visitor  again,  but  having  indicated 
the  direction  in  which  the  open  door  stood,  had  whisked 
indignantly  beyond  into  her  own  preserves. 

The  hour  was  now  something  after  sunset,  and  the 
room  was  half  in  gloom.  The  actress  paused  inside  the 
door,  standing  stiffly.  Hampstead  sat  before  his  desk, 
his  elbows  on  the  arms  of  his  chair,  his  hands  hanging 
limp,  his  shoulders  drooping,  his  eyes  cast  down  and 
fixed.  He  was  again  thinking.  He  had  a  good  many 
things  to  think  about.  The  coming  of  the  actress 
brought  one  more.  He  was  not  utterly  despondent,  but 
he  had  been  brought  to  the  verge  of  catastrophe;  perhaps 
beyond  the  verge.  The  woman  against  whom  he  had 
done  no  wrong,  and  who  had  brought  him  to  the  preci 
pice,  now  stood  in  his  room,  the  place  of  all  places  in 
which  he  could  feel  the  desolation  creeping  round  his  soul 
like  rising  waters  about  a  man  trapped  by  the  tide  in 
some  ocean  cavern.  But  the  minister  was  not  now  think 
ing  of  that.  Instead  his  mind  recalled  wonderingly  that 
fleeting  picture  of  this  woman  in  court,  with  her  eyes 
gleaming  savagely  at  Searle  and  crouching  like  a  tigress 
about  to  spring. 

As  if  to  call  attention  to  her  presence,  the  actress 
swung  the  door  noiselessly  toward  the  jamb,  until  the 
lock  caught  it  with  an  audible  and  decisive  snap.  The 
minister  reached  out  a  hand  and  touched  a  button  that 
flooded  the  room  with  light. 

Miss  Dounay  was  clad  exactly  as  she  had  appeared 
in  court,  except  that  she  was  more  heavily  veiled,  so  that 
the  prying  light  revealed  no  more  of  her  features  than 
the  sparkle  of  an  eye.  Hampstead  had  not  risen. 

"  Well !  "  he  said,  quietly  but  emotionlessly. 


THE  TERMS  OF  SURRENDER  443 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  in  a  low,  affirmative  voice,  exactly 
as  if  in  answer  to  a  question. 

"Why  did  you  do  it?" 

Hampstead  asked  the  question  abruptly,  but  very 
quietly,  and  accompanied  it  with  a  gravity  of  expression 
and  a  gesture  slight  but  so  inclusive  that  it  comprehended 
the  entire  avalanche  which  had  been  released  upon  him 
during  the  six  days  which  had  passed  since  he  had  talked 
with  this  woman  in  the  limousine  upon  the  moonlit  point 
above  the  city. 

Before  replying,  the  actress  raised  both  hands  and 
lifted  her  veil.  The  disclosure  was  something  of  a  reve 
lation.  The  features  were  those  of  Marien  Dounay,  but 
they  were  changed.  There  had  been  always  something 
royal  in  Marien's  glances,  but  the  royal  air  was  gone 
now:  something  dominant  in  her  personality,  but  the 
dominance  had  departed.  The  suggestion,  too,  of 
smouldering  fire  in  her  eyes  was  absent;  instead  there 
appeared  a  liquescent,  quivering  light,  in  which  suffering 
and  the  comprehension  that  comes  with  suffering  com 
bined  to  suggest  helpless  appeal  rather  than  the  old,  im 
perial  air. 

This  softening  of  expression  had  extended  to  her 
mouth  as  well.  The  lips,  as  red,  as  full  of  invitation  as 
ever,  were  more  pliant;  they  trembled  and  formed  them 
selves  into  tiny  undulating  curves  which  suggested  and 
then  reinforced  the  imploring  light  of  the  eyes.  Her 
beauty  was  more  appealing  because  it  was  no  longer  com 
manding,  but  entreating. 

"  Why  did  you  do  it?  "  the  minister  repeated,  when  his 
eyes  had  completed  his  appraisal,  and  the  woman  was 
still  eloquently  silent. 

"  Because  I  loved  you,"  she  answered  briefly. 

Her  declaration  was  accompanied  by  an  attempt  at  a 
smile  that  was  so  brave  and  yet  so  faltering  that  it  was 


444  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

rather  pitiful.  But  Hampstead,  looking  at  the  beautiful 
shell  of  this  woman  who  had  so  vindictively  hurled  him 
down,  was  not  in  a  mood  to  feel  pity.  Instead  he  was 
merely  incredulous. 

"  Love  ?  "  he  asked  cynically,  rising  from  his  seat. 

"  Yes,"  exclaimed  the  woman  with  convulsive  eager 
ness,  as  if  her  voice  choked  over  speaking  what  her 
lips,  by  the  traditional  modesty  of  her  sex  and  the  moun 
tain  of  her  pride  and  self-will,  had  been  too  long  for 
bidden  to  utter.  "  Yes,  I  have  always  loved  you !  " 

With  this  much  of  a  beginning,  excitedly  and  with  the 
air  of  one  whose  course  was  predetermined,  the  actress 
plucked  off  her  hat,  stabbed  the  pin  into  it,  and  tossed 
it  upon  the  window  seat;  then  nervously  stripped  the 
gloves  from  her  hands ;  all  the  while  hurrying  on  with  a 
sort  of  defensive  vehemence  to  aver: 

"  I  have  loved  you  from  the  first  moment  when  you 
held  me  in  your  arms  long  enough  for  me  to  feel  the 
electric  warmth  of  your  personality.  You  roused, 
kindled,  and  enflamed  me !  The  sensation  was  delicious ; 
but  I  resented  it.  It  offended  my  pride.  I  had  never 
been  overmastered.  You  overmastered  me  without 
knowing  it.  I  hated  you  for  it.  You  were  so  —  so  un 
sophisticated ;  so  good,  so  simple,  so  ready  to  worship, 
to  admire,  to  ascribe  the  beauties  of  my  body  to  the 
beauties  of  my  soul.  I  hated  you  for  that,  for  my  soul 
was  less  beautiful  than  my  body,  and  I  knew  it.  I  re 
sisted  you  and  yielded  to  you;  I  hated  you  and  loved 
you ;  I  spurned  you  and  wanted  you. 

"  You  were  so  awkward,  so  impossible ;  you  had  so 
much  of  talent  and  knew  so  little  how  to  use  it.  It 
seemed  to  me  the  very  mockery  of  fate  that  my  heart 
should  fasten  its  affection  upon  you.  I  tried  to  break  the 
spell,  and  could  not.  I  yielded  to  my  heart.  I  had  to 
love  you,  to  let  myself  adore  you. 


THE  TERMS  OF  SURRENDER  445 

"  I  thought  of  taking  you  with  me,  but  the  way  was 
too  long ;  yours  was  more  than  talent  —  far  more ;  it  was 
genius,  but  buried  deep  and  scattered  wide.  It  would 
have  taken  a  lifetime  to  chisel  it  out  and  assemble  it  in 
the  perfect  whole  of  successful  art.  I  shrank  before  the 
treadmill  task. 

"  And  something  else  —  I  was  jealous  of  you !  " 

Hampstead,  who  despite  his  incredulity  had  been  lis 
tening  attentively,  raised  his  eyebrows. 

"  Jealous  of  the  artist  you  might  become.  Your  genius 
when  it  flowered  would  overtop  mine  as  your  character 
overtops  mine." 

The  speaker  paused,  as  if  to  mark  the  effect  of  her 
words. 

"  Go  on,"  urged  Hampstead  impatiently,  and  for  the 
first  time  betraying  feeling.  "  In  the  name  of  God, 
woman,  if  you  have  one  word  of  justification  to  speak, 
let  me  hear  it !  " 

"  I  have  it,"  Miss  Dounay  rejoined,  yet  more  impetu 
ously,  "  in  that  one  word  which  I  have  already  spoken  — 
love!"  She  paused,  passed  her  hand  across  her  brow, 
and  again  resumed  the  thread  of  her  story,  still  speaking 
rapidly  but  with  an  increase  of  dramatic  emphasis. 

"  Then  came  the  final  ecstasy  of  pain.  You  loved  me. 
You  demanded  me.  You  charged  me  with  loving  you. 
You  told  me  it  was  like  the  murder  of  a  beautiful  child  to 
kill  a  love  like  ours.  You  argued,  persuaded,  demanded 
—  compelled  —  almost  possessed  me !  " 

The  woman's  face  whitened,  her  eyes  closed,  and  she 
reeled  dizzily  under  the  spell  of  a  memory  that  swept 
her  into  transports. 

"  But,"  replied  the  minister  quietly,  "  you  killed  our 
beautiful  child." 

"  No !  No ! !  "  she  exclaimed,  thrusting  out  her  hands 
to  him.  "  Do  not  say  that !  I  only  exposed  it  —  to  the 


446  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

vicissitudes  of  years,  to  absence  and  to  a  foul  slander 
which  my  own  lips  breathed  against  myself!  But  I  did 
not  kill  it!  I  did  not  kill  it!" 

"  At  any  rate,  it  is  dead,"  replied  the  man,  his  voice 
as  sadly  sympathetic  as  it  was  coolly  decisive. 

"  But  I  will  make  it  live  again,"  the  woman  exclaimed 
desperately.  "  I  love  you,  John !  Oh,  God,  how  I  love 
you!" 

She  endeavored  to  reach  his  neck  with  her  arms,  but 
the  minister  stepped  back,  and  she  stood  wringing  them 
emptily,  a  look  in  her  eyes  as  if  she  implored  him  to 
understand. 

But  the  minister  was  still  unresponsive. 

"  It  was  a  queer  way  for  love  to  act,"  he  protested, 
and  again  with  that  comprehensive  gesture  which  called 
accusing  notice  to  the  ruin  pulled  down  upon  him. 

"But  will  you  not  understand?"  she  pleaded.  "It 
was  the  last  desperate  resource  of  love.  I  could  not  reach 
the  real  you.  I  tried  for  weeks.  I  endured  insuffer 
able  associations.  I  assumed  distasteful  interests  —  all 
to  put  myself  in  your  company;  to  keep  you  in  mine;  to 
create  those  proximities,  those  environments  and  situa 
tions  in  which  love  grows  naturally.  Again  and  again  I 
thought  that  love  was  springing  up.  But  I  was  disap 
pointed.  You  did  not  respond.  What  I  thought  at  first 
was  response  was  only  sympathy.  To  you  I  was  no 
longer  a  woman.  I  was  a  subject  in  spiritual  pathology. 

"  When  I  saw  this,  first  it  irritated,  then  maddened 
me.  I  knew  that  you  were  not  yourself,  that  your  en 
vironment  had  insulated  you.  That  you  were  so  inter 
ested  in  the  part  which  you  were  playing, —  so  absorbed 
by  the  duty  of  being  a  public  idol,  that  you  could  not 
be  yourself,  the  man,  the  flesh,  the  heart,  I  know  you  are. 

"  In  desperation  I  resolved  to  strip  you,  to  hurl  you 
down,  to  rob  you  of  the  public  regard,  of  your  church, 


THE  TERMS  OF  SURRENDER  447 

of  everything;  to  strip  you  until  you  were  nothing  but  the 
man  who  once  held  me  in  his  arms,  his  whole  body 
quivering,  and  demanding  with  all  his  nature  to  possess 
me." 

As  the  woman  spoke,  her  voice  had  risen,  and  a  half- 
insane  enthusiasm  was  gleaming  on  her  face,  while  her 
fingers  reached  restlessly  after  the  minister  who,  as  un 
consciously  as  she  advanced,  receded  until  he  stood  cor 
nered  against  the  door. 

"  Now,"  she  continued,  in  her  frenzied  exaltation  of 
mood,  "  it  is  done !  You  see  how  easily  it  was  accom 
plished.  Nothing  should  be  so  disillusioning,  so  re 
awakening  to  you  as  to  observe  how  light  is  your  hold 
upon  this  community,  how  selfish  and  insincere  was  all 
this  public  adulation.  I,  a  stranger  almost,  of  whom 
these  people  knew  nothing,  was  able,  with  a  ridiculously 
impossible  charge,  to  brush  you  from  your  eminence  like 
a  fly. 

"  Of  what  worth  has  it  all  been?  Of  what  worth  all 
that  you  can  do  for  people  like  these  ?  Your  very  church 
is  turning  against  you.  It  will  cast  you  out." 

A  shade  had  crossed  the  brow  of  Hampstead. 

"You  think  that?"  he  asked  defiantly. 

"  I  know  it,"  Marien  replied  aggressively.  "  That 
square-headed  old  Elder  came  to  see  me  this  afternoon. 
Shaking  his  hand  was  like  taking  hold  of  a  toad.  Ugh! 
He  wanted  to  pry  into  your  past  through  me,  the  old 
reprobate !  " 

"  Hush !  I  will  not  hear  him  defamed.  He  is  an  hon 
orable  and  a  well-meaning  man,  against  whose  character 
not  one  word  can  be  breathed." 

Marien's  eyes  flashed.  Impatient  and  regardless  of 
interruption,  she  continued  as  though  Hampstead  had 
not  spoken. 

"  And  he,  the  father  of  the  man  you  are  suffering  to 


448  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

shield,  is  to  be  the  first  to  take  advantage  of  your  mis 
fortune.  The  old  Pharisee!  I  nearly  told  him  who  the 
real  thief  was." 

"MissDounay!" 

The  minister's  exclamation  was  short  and  sharp,  like  a 
bark  of  rage.  His  face  was  drawn  until  his  mouth  was 
a  seam,  and  his  eyes  had  shrunk  to  two  shafts  of  light, 
"Miss  Dounay!  That  is  God's  secret.  If  you  had 
spoken,  I  should  have — "  He  ceased  to  speak  but  held 
up  hands  that  clenched  and  unclenched. 

The  actress  was  feeling  confident  now.  She  had 
goaded  this  man  to  rage.  Beyond  rage  might  lie  weak 
ness  and  surrender.  She  threw  back  her  head  and 
laughed. 

"  Yes,  I  will  finish  it  for  you.  You  would  have  been 
inclined  to  strangle  me;  but  I  did  not  tell  him.  Yet  not 
for  your  reason,  but  for  mine.  So  long  as  you  rest  under 
the  charge,  your  enemies  gnash;  your  friends  turn  from 
you.  Instead  of  being  insulated  from  me  by  all,  you  are 
insulated  from  all  by  me.  There  is  no  one  left  but  me. 
I  love  you.  I  am  beautiful,  rich,  with  the  glamour  of  suc 
cess  upon  me.  I  can  override  anything;  defy  anything. 
I  can  be  yours  —  altogether  yours.  You  can  be  mine  — 
altogether  mine.  You  can  leave  these  shallow,  ungrate 
ful  gossips  and  scandalmongers  to  prey  upon  each  other, 
while  you  and  I  go  away  to  an  Eden  of  our  own." 

The  actress  paused,  breathless  and  again  to  mark  ef 
fects.  The  minister's  face  had  resumed  its  normal  be 
nignity  of  expression.  He  was  gazing  at  her  thought 
fully,  contemplatively.  Marien  took  fresh  hope,  know 
ing  upon  second  thought  now,  as  she  had  known  all 
along,  that  she  could  not  successfully  tempt  this  man  by 
a  life  of  mere  luxurious  emptiness.  Falling  into  tones 
of  yet  more  confiding  intimacy,  she  continued : 

"  Besides,  John,  I  am  not  jealous  of  your  genius  any 


THE  TERMS  OF  SURRENDER  449 

more.  My  love  has  surged  even  over  that.  You  have 
still  a  great  dramatic  career  before  you.  You  shall  come 
into  my  company.  You  shall  have  every  opportunity. 
,Within  two  years  you  shall  be  my  leading  man;  within 
five,  co-star  with  me.  Think  of  it.  Your  heart  is  still 
in  the  actor's  art.  Acting  is  religion.  After  God,  the 
actor  is  the  greatest  creator.  He  alone  can  simulate 
life.  The  stage  is  the  most  powerful  pulpit.  Come. 
We  will  write  your  life's  story  into  a  play.  We  will  play 
the  faith  and  fortitude  which  you  have  shown  into  the 
very  soul  of  America,  like  a  bed  of  moral  concrete!. 
Are  you  not  moved  at  that  ?  " 

She  paused,  standing  with  head  upon  one  side,  and  the 
old,  alluring,  coaxing  glances  stealing  up  from  beneath 
the  coquettish  droop  of  her  lids. 

"  No,"  Hampstead  replied  seriously.  "  I  am  not 
moved  by  it  at  all.  Had  you  made  this  speech  to  me  five 
years  ago,  I  should  have  been  in  transports.  To-day  the 
art  of  living  appeals  to  me  beyond  the  art  of  acting.  I 
have  no  doubt  I  feel  as  great  a  zest,  as  great  a  creative 
thrill  in  standing  true  in  the  position  in  which  you  have 
placed  me  as  you  ever  can  in  the  most  ecstatic  raptures 
of  the  mimetic  art.  No,  Marien,"  and  his  tone  was 
conclusive,  "  it  makes  no  appeal  to  me." 

The  beautiful  creature,  perplexity  and  disappointment 
mingling  on  her  face,  stood  for  a  moment  nonplussed. 
The  expression  of  alert  and  confident  resourcefulness 
had  departed.  Her  intelligence  had  failed  her.  Yet 
once  more  the  old  smile  mounted  bravely. 

"  But  there  still  remains  one  thing,"  she  breathed 
softly,  leaning  toward  him.  "  That  is  I.  Everything 
you  have  got  is  gone,  or  going.  I  have  taken  it  away 
from  you  that  I  might  give  you  instead  myself.  You 
had  no  room  for  me  last  week.  You  have  nothing  else 
but  me  now.  It  hurt  me  to  give  you  pain.  I  hate  Searle. 


450  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

I  could  have  torn  his  tongue  out  yesterday.  But  you  will 
forgive  me,  John.  I  did  it  for  love." 

Her  utterance  was  indescribably  pathetic  —  indescrib 
ably  appealing. 

"  I  am  not  to  blame  that  I  love  you.  You  are  to  blame. 
No,  the  God  that  constituted  us  is  to  blame." 

Her  tones  grew  lower  and  lower.  The  spirit  of  hum 
bled  pride,  of  chastened  submission,  of  helpless  want  en 
tered  more  and  more  into  the  expression  of  her  face  and 
the  timbre  of  her  soft  voice,  while  the  very  outlines  of 
her  figure  seemed  to  melt  and  quiver  with  the  intensity 
of  yearning. 

"  It  has  been  hard  to  humble  myself  in  this  way  to 
you,"  she  confessed.  "  I  tried  to  win  you  as  once  I 
won  you,  as  women  like  to  win  their  lovers.  But  I  am 
not  quite  as  other  women.  I  have  to  have  you!  My 
nature  is  imperious.  It  will  shatter  itself  or  have  its 
will.  I  shattered  your  love  to  gain  my  ambition's  goal. 
And  now  I  have  shattered  your  career  to  gain  your  love 
again." 

Hampstead,  though  his  consideration  was  growing  for 
the  woman,  could  not  resist  a  shaft  of  irony. 

"  That  was  a  sacrifice  you  took  the  liberty  of  making 
for  me,"  he  suggested. 

"  But,  don't  you  see,  it  made  me  possible  for  you 
again,"  and  the  actress  smiled  with  that  obtuseness  which 
was  pitiful  because  it  would  not  see  defeat.  She  drew 
closer  to  him  now,  well  within  reach  of  his  arm,  and  stood 
perfectly  still,  her  hands  clasped,  her  bosom  heaving 
gently,  a  thing  of  rounded  curves  and  wistful  eyes,  the 
figure  of  passionate,  submissive,  appealing  love,  hoping 
—  desiring  —  waiting  —  to  be  taken. 

Yet  the  minister  did  not  take  her. 

But  whatever  agonies  of  lingering  suspense,  of  dying 
hope,  and  rising  despair  may  have  passed  through  the  in- 


THE  TERMS  OF  SURRENDER  451 

domitable  woman  as  she  stood  in  this  pose  of  vain  and 
helpless  waiting,  there  was  yet  a  spirit  in  her  that  would 
not  surrender  because  it  could  not. 

With  eyes  mournfully  searching  the  depths  of  the  face 
before  her,  she  began  her  last  appeal. 

"  And  yet,  John,  there  is  a  sacrifice  that  I  am  willing 
to  make  that  is  all  my  own  and  none  of  yours.  I  will 
renounce  my  own  ambition,  abandon  the  stage,  cancel 
my  engagements,  give  up  that  for  which  I  have  bartered 
everything  a  woman  has  to  give  but  one  thing.  I  have 
kept  that  one  thing  for  you  alone.  The  name  of  Marien 
Dounay  shall  disappear.  I  will  be  Alice  Higgins  again. 
I  will  be  not  an  artist  but  a  wife.  I  will  be  the  associate 
of  your  work.  You  must  go  from  here,  of  course.  I 
have  made  your  remaining  impossible.  But  we  will  find 
some  place  where  men  and  women  need  the  kind  of  thing 
that  you  can  do.  It  is  a  great  need.  There  is  a  sort  of 
glory  in  your  work  which  I  have  not  been  too  blind  to 
see.  My  bridal  flowers  shall  be  the  weeds  of  humble 
service.  I  will  employ  my  art  to  bring  cheer  into  homes 
of  poverty,  freshness  and  brightness  to  the  sick.  I  will 
try  to  be  God's  replica  of  all  that  you  yourself  are.  I  say 
I  will  try!" 

She  had  raised  her  face  now  and  was  searching  his 
eyes  again. 

"  I  will  do  all  of  this,  eagerly,  joyously,  fanatically, 
John  Hampstead,  if  it  will  make  it  possible  for  you  to 
love  me  —  as  once  you  loved  me/'  she  concluded,  with 
the  last  words  barely  audible  and  sounding  more  like 
heart  throbs  than  human  speech. 

Hampstead,  looking  levelly  into  her  face,  saw  that  the 
woman  spoke  the  truth,  that  she  was  absolutely  sincere. 

She  saw  that  he  saw  it,  and  with  a  gesture  of  mute 
appeal  threw  out  her  hands  to  him.  But  they  gathered 
only  air  and  fell  limply  to  her  side. 


452  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

The  minister,  although  his  manner  expressed  a  world 
of  sympathy,  shook  his  head  sadly.  Marien's  face  grew 
white,  and  the  red  of  her  lips  almost  disappeared.  A 
look  of  blank  terror  came  into  her  eyes,  while  one  hand, 
with  fingers  half-closed,  stole  upward  to  the  blanched 
cheek,  and  the  other  was  pressed  convulsively  against 
her  breast. 

"  I  have  my  answer  —  John !  "  she  whispered  hoarsely, 
after  an  interval.  "  I  have  my  answer !  " 

"  Yes,  Marien,"  he  replied,  sorrowfully  but  decisively, 
"  you  have  your  answer." 

Her  eyes,  always  eloquent,  and  now  with  a  look  of 
terrible  hurt  in  them,  suffused  quickly,  and  it  seemed 
that  she  would  burst  into  tears  and  fling  herself  weakly 
upon  the  man  she  loved  so  hopelessly.  Instead,  how 
ever,  only  a  shiny  drop  or  two  coursed  down  the  cheeks 
which  continued  as  white  as  marble;  and  she  held  her 
self  resolutely  aloof,  but  balancing  uncertainly  until  all 
at  once  her  rounded  figure  seemed  to  wilt  and  she  would 
have  fallen,  had  not  the  minister  thrown  an  arm  about 
the  tottering  form  and  with  gentle  brotherliness  of  man 
ner  helped  her  to  a  seat  in  the  Morris  chair. 

For  a  considerable  time  she  sat  with  her  face  in  her 
hands,  silent  but  for  an  occasional  dry,  eruptive  sob. 

Hampstead,  standing  back  with  arms  folded  and  one 
hand  making  a  rest  for  his  chin,  looked  on  helplessly, 
realizing  that  for  the  first  time  he  was  studying  this  com 
plex  personality  with  something  like  real  comprehension. 

While  he  gazed  a  purpose  appeared  to  stir  again  in  the 
disconsolate  figure.  The  dry  sobs  ceased,  and  the  body 
straightened  till  her  head  found  its  rest  upon  the  back 
of  the  chair ;  but  there  the  woman  relaxed  again  in  seem 
ing  total  exhaustion  with  eyes  closed  and  lips  slightly 
parted.  Hampstead  drew  a  little  closer,  as  if  in  tribute 
to  this  determined  nature  which  now  obviously  fought 


THE  TERMS  OF  SURRENDER  453 

with  its  grief  as  it  had  fought  to  gain  the  object  of  its 
attachment  —  indomitably.  He  had  again  the  feeling 
which  had  come  to  him  before,  that  she  was  greater,  was 
worthier  than  he. 

"  How  I  have  made  you  suffer !  "  Marien  exclaimed 
abruptly,  at  the  same  time  opening  her  eyes. 

"  Yes,"  the  minister  confessed  frankly,  while  the  lines 
of  pain  seemed  to  chisel  themselves  deeper  upon  his  face 
with  the  admission,  "  you  have  indeed  made  me  suffer." 

"Can  you  ever,  ever  forgive  me?"  she  asked,  lifting 
her  hand  appealingly. 

It  was  a  small  hand  and  lily  white,  with  slim  and  taper 
ing  fingers.  The  minister  took  it  in  his  and  found  it  as 
soft  as  before, —  but  chilled. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  gravely  and  calculatingly,  "  I  do  for 
give  you.  The  ruin  has  been  almost  complete ;  but  I  am 
strong  enough  to  build  again !  " 

"  Oh,"  she  exclaimed  eagerly,  starting  up,  "  do  you 
think  you  can?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  assured  her  stoutly,  "  I  know  it."  He  was 
beginning  to  feel  sorrier  for  her  than  for  himself. 
"  You,  too,"  he  suggested  gently,  "  must  begin  to  build 
again." 

Again  her  features  whitened,  and  she  fell  back,  press 
ing  her  brow  with  a  gesture  of  pain  and  bewilderment,  a 
suggestion  of  one  who  wakes  to  find  one's  self  in  chaos. 
It  seemed  a  very  long  time  that  she  was  silent,  but  with 
lines  of  thought  upon  her  brow  and  the  signs  of  strength 
ening  purpose  gradually  again  appearing  about  her  mouth 
and  chin.  When  she  spoke  it  was  to  say  with  determina 
tion  : 

'  Yes ;  and  I,  too,  am  strong  enough  to  build  again. 
In  these  silent  minutes  I  have  been  thinking  worlds  and 
worlds  of  things.  I  have  lost  everything  —  yet  every 
thing  remains  —  and  more.  My  art  shall  be  my  hus- 


454  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

band;  and  I  will  be  a  greater  actress  than  ever.  I  shall 
play  with  a  greater  power,  inspired  and  informed  by  the 
love  which  I  have  lost.  I  was  never  tender  enough  be 
fore.  The  critics  charged  me  with  hardness;  I  hated 
them  for  it.  I  could  not  understand  them.  Now  I 
know.  I  could  never  play  but  half  a  woman's  heart.  I 
was  too  selfish,  too  proud,  too  imperious.  I  regarded 
love  too  lightly.  That  mistake  will  be  impossible  now. 
I  know  that  love  is  all  and  all.  There  is  no  ecstasy  of 
love's  delight  of  which  my  imagination  cannot  conceive; 
there  is  no  despair  which  the  loss  of  love  may  produce 
that  my  experience  will  not  have  fathomed  before  this 
poignant  ache  in  my  heart  is  done." 

At  first  John  recoiled  a  little  at  this  talk  of  a  utili 
tarian  extraction  from  her  bitter  experience  and  his ;  yet 
he  reflected  that  it  was  like  the  woman.  It  was  but  the 
outcrop  of  the  dominant  passion.  Since  girlhood  she 
had  seen  herself  solely  in  terms  of  relation  to  her  art; 
therefore  this  attitude  now  indicated,  not  a  lack  of  fine 
ness,  but  her  almost  noble  capacity  for  converting  every 
thing  to  the  ultimate  object  of  the  artist.  Without  such 
capacity  for  abandon,  there  was,  he  reflected,  no  supreme 
artist;  and,  he  reasoned  further,  no  supreme  minister  — 
or  man,  even.  To  this  extent  and  in  this  moment, 
Marien's  bearing  in  defeat  was  a  lesson  and  a  spur  to 
him. 

"  I  shall  go  widowed  to  my  work,"  she  went  on  to 
say,  "  but  it  will  be  a  greater  work  than  I  could  have  done 
before.  Then  I  had  an  ambition.  Now  I  have  a  mis 
sion  !  To  show  women  —  and  men  too  —  the  worth  and 
weight  and  height  and  depth  and  paramount  value  of 
love." 

Hampstead  was  again  deeply  impressed  with  her  enor 
mous  resiliency  of  spirit.  The  woman's  heart  had  been 
torn  to  pieces ;  yet  while  each  nerve  and  fiber  of  it  was  a 


THE  TERMS  OF  SURRENDER  455 

pulse  of  pain,  she  was  purposing  to  bind  the  thing  to 
gether  and  let  its  every  throb  be  a  word  of  warning  to 
womankind. 

"  I  learned  it  from  you,"  she  explained,  almost  as  if 
she  had  read  his  thoughts.  "  I  understand  now  the  ex 
alted  mood  in  which  you  spoke  a  few  minutes  ago.  I  am 
sorry  that  I  have  lost  you ;  but  I  am  not  sorry  that  I  have 
hurled  you  down,  since  it  leaves  revealed  a  nobler  figure 
of  a  man  than  I  had  thought  existed." 

Hampstead  shuddered,  in  part  at  his  own  pain,  in  part 
at  the  ease  with  which  she  uttered  the  sentiment,  because 
this  woman  could  really  never  know  how  much  his  fall 
had  cost  him. 

"  Each  of  us  in  life  I  fear  must  be  held  to  answer  for 
his  own  obtuseness,"  he  suggested. 

"  But  that  is  not  all  we  are  held  to  answer  for,"  Miss 
Dounay  replied  with  sudden  perception.  "  We  must  pay 
the  penalty  of  the  obtuseness  of  others." 

"  Ah !  "  exclaimed  the  minister  quickly.  "  There  you 
stumbled  upon  one  of  the  greatest  truths  in  religion, 
the  law  of  vicarious  suffering.  We  are  each  compelled, 
whether  we  will  or  not,  to  suffer  for  the  sins  of  others. 
If  we,  you  or  I,  mere  humanity  that  we  are,  can  so  man 
age  such  suffering  that  it  becomes  a  redemptive  influence 
over  the  life  of  the  one  who  caused  it,  we  have  done  in  a 
small  and  distant  way  the  thing  which  the  Son  of  Man 
did  so  perfectly  for  all  the  world." 

"  I  see,"  she  exclaimed  eagerly,  pressing  her  hands  to 
gether  in  a  sort  of  rapture.  "  It  is  that  which  you  have 
done  for  me.  You  have  suffered  for  my  sin,  and  you 
have  so  managed  the  suffering  that  you  have  taken  away 
some  of  my  selfishness  and  will  send  me  out  of  here,  as 
I  said  before,  not  with  an  ambition,  but  with  a  mis 
sion." 

She  had  risen,  and  though  her  manner  was  still  sub- 


456  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

dued,  it  was  again  the  manner  of  self-possession.  Yet 
the  new  mood  into  which  she  had  passed,  and  the  new 
light  of  spiritual  enthusiasm  which  had  come  upon  her 
face,  in  no  wise  wiped  out  the  impression  that  in  the  hour 
past  she  had  tasted  the  bitterest  disappointment  that  a 
woman  can  know,  had  plunged  to  the  very  depths  of 
despair,  and  was  still  under  its  somber  cloud.  Indeed  it 
was  the  fierceness  of  the  conflagration  within  her  which 
had  burned  out  so  swiftly  at  least  a  part  of  that  dross  of 
selfishness  of  which  she  had  spoken,  and  clarified  her 
vision,  so  that  their  two  minds  had  leaped  quickly  from 
one  peak  of  thought  to  another,  to  come  suddenly  on  em 
barrassed  silence  just  because  all  words,  all  deeds  even, 
seemed  suddenly  futile  to  express  what  each  had  felt  and 
was  now  feeling. 

As  the  conversation  lapsed  momentarily,  both  appeared 
to  find  relief  in  trivial  interests.  The  minister  straight 
ened  the  books  in  the  rack  upon  his  desk,  then  looked  at 
his  watch  and  noted  that  it  was  fifteen  minutes  to  seven 
and  reflected  that  seven  was  his  dinner  hour. 

The  actress  gave  her  hair  a  few  touches  with  her  hands, 
and  stood  adjusting  her  hat  before  the  mirror  above  the 
mantel.  But  the  veil  was  still  raised.  Hampstead 
watched  these  operations  silently,  moved  by  evidences  of 
the  change  in  the  woman. 

"  You  have  forgiven  me,"  she  began  again,  noticing 
in  the  mirror  that  his  eye  was  upon  her ;  "  but  I  do  not 
forgive  myself.  My  first  mission  is  to  repair  the  damage 
which  I  have  done  to  you.  I  will  go  immediately  to 
Searle  and  tell  him  the  truth." 

Hampstead's  mouth  fell  open,  and  a  single  step  car 
ried  him  half  way  across  the  room. 

"  But  you  must  not  tell  Searle  nor  any  one  else  the 
truth !  "  he  affirmed  vehemently. 

It  was  Marien's  turn  to  be  surprised. 


THE  TERMS  OF  SURRENDER  457 

"  You  mean  that  I  am  not  to  undo  the  wrong  that  I 
have  done  you?"  she  asked  in  amazement. 

"Not  that  way,"  he  answered,  with  deliberate  shak 
ings  of  the  head. 

"  You  mean  that  you  are  to  stand  under  the  stigma 
which  now  rests  upon  you  ?  "  she  insisted,  with  a  gleam 
of  the  old  imperious  manner.  "  Certainly  not!  I  have 
done  wrong  enough!  It  cannot  be  undone  too  quickly. 
I  shall  tell  the  truth  to  Searle.  I  shall  gather  the  re 
porters  about  me  and  spare  myself  nothing.  I  will  re 
veal  the  whole  horrible  plot;  I  will  confess  that  Searle 
was  duped,  and  that  you  were  grossly  conspired  against 
by  me!" 

Again  Hampstead,  meeting  that  level  glance,  knew 
that  the  woman  spoke  in  absolute  sincerity.  She  was  en 
tirely  capable  of  doing  it.  Once  a  course  commended 
itself  to  her  judgment,  she  had  already  shown  that  she 
would  spare  nothing  to  follow  it. 

"  But  you  forget  young  Burbeck,"  he  exclaimed. 
"  Your  exposure  would  mean  his  exposure." 

"Well?" 

Marien's  eyes  and  tone  both  expressed  her  meaning, 
though  she  added  incisively :  "  He  is  no  reason  why  you 
should  linger  under  this  cloud." 

Hampstead  gazed  at  the  woman  doubtfully,  speculat 
ing  as  to  what  argument  would  make  the  strongest  appeal 
to  her. 

"  His  mother,"  he  began  gravely,  "  is  my  dearest 
friend.  She  is  the  most  saintly  woman  I  have  ever 
known.  One  year  of  her  life  to  this  community  is  worth 
more  than  a  score  of  years  of  mine  —  than  all  of  mine. 
Let  her  know  in  private  that  her  son  is  the  thief,  and  she 
would  grieve  to  death  in  a  week.  Let  her  know  sud 
denly,  with  the  force  of  public  exposure,  and  it  would 
kill  her  instantly,  like  an  electric  shock." 


458  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

But  this  note  proved  the  wrong  one.  Marien  instantly 
took  higher  ground. 

"  I  know  that  woman,"  she  replied.  "  I  have  sensed 
her  spirit.  You  do  her  injustice.  If  she  knew  the  facts, 
she  would  speak,  though  it  killed  her  and  ruined  her  son, 
rather  than  see  you  endure  for  a  single  day  what  you  are 
suffering  now." 

Hampstead  knew  better  than  the  speaker  how  true  this 
was. 

"  But  there  is  another  reason,  a  higher  reason,"  he 
began  slowly,  writh  a  grave  significance  that  caught 
Marien's  attention  instantly,  "  the  soul  of  Rollie  Bur- 
beck!" 

The  minister  had  breathed  rather  than  spoken  these 
last  words.  They  had  in  them  a  sense  of  the  awe  he  felt 
at  what  hung  upon  his  actions  now. 

For  an  instant,  the  keen  eyes  of  the  woman  searched 
the  depths  of  Hampstead's  own,  as  if  she  was  making 
sure  that  what  she  heard  and  understood  with  this  new 
and  spiritual  intuition  which  had  come  so  swiftly  out  of 
her  experience,  was  confirmed  by  what  she  saw. 

"You  mean,"  she  asked,  only  half  credulous,  "that 
you  will  suffer  for  his  sake  as  you  have  suffered  for  mine, 
until  new  character  begins  to  grow  in  him  just  as  a  new 
objective  begins  to  stir  in  me?  You  mean  that?  " 

Hampstead  nodded.  "  That  is  my  hope,"  he  said 
solemnly. 

"  Oh !  "  Marien  sighed,  with  a  prolonged  aspirate  note 
which  expressed  reverence,  awe,  and  astonishment. 
"  But  the  charges  ?  They  will  be  pressed.  You  will  be 
held  —  convicted  —  imprisoned !  " 

"  I  cannot  think  it,"  argued  John  soberly.  "  A  way 
will  appear  to  avoid  that.  Yet  we  must  contemplate  the 
worst.  One  thing  is  sure,"  and  his  voice  appeared  to 
increase  in  volume  without  an  increase  of  tone,  "  one 


THE  TERMS  OF  SURRENDER  459 

thing  is  sure :  In  the  position  in  which  you  have  placed 
me  I  must  remain  until  the  thing  for  which  I  am  stand 
ing  has  been  accomplished  —  however  long  that  takes  — 
and  if  the  wrong  you  have  done  to  me  confers  any  obliga 
tion  upon  you,  it  is  to  keep  your  lips  sealed  till  I  give 
you  leave  to  open  them." 

Miss  Dounay,  more  humbled  by  this  steadfast  mag 
nanimity  of  soul  which  could  refuse  vindication  when  it 
was  offered  than  awed  by  the  sudden  force  of  self- 
assertion  which  Hampstead  manifested,  looked  her  sub 
mission. 

"  Man ! "  she  exclaimed  impulsively,  seizing  both  his 
hands  for  an  instant.  "  I  revere  you.  You  are  not  the 
flesh  I  thought.  You  have  altered  greatly.  Yours  was 
not  a  pose.  It  is  genuine.  I  am  reconciled  a  little  to 
my  loss.  You  are  not  mine  because  I  was  not  worthy 
to  be  yours !  " 

Hampstead  made  a  deprecating,  repressive  gesture. 

"  Let  me  finish,"  she  protested.  "  I  am  even  less  hu 
miliated.  The  thing  required  to  charm  you  was  a  thing 
I  did  not  possess !  " 

"  Beauty  is  a  great  possession,"  Hampstead  smiled. 
"  I  have  been  and  am  sensible  to  it.  I  was  sensible  to 
your  beauty  to  the  last.  The  woman  I  love  is  beautiful." 

"  The  woman  you  love ! "  Marien's  whole  manner 
changed.  Her  face  took  on  the  tigerish  look.  "  There 
is  some  one  else  then?  At  least,"  she  added  reproach 
fully,  "  you  might  have  spared  me  this." 

"  It  was  necessary,"  the  minister  replied  quietly,  "  if 
we  were  really  to  understand  each  other," 

The  gravity  of  the  man's  tone,  as  well  as  some  subtle 
recovery  within  herself,  checked  the  tigerish  impulse. 
Swiftly  it  gave  way  to  pain  and  humility  again. 

'  You  —  you  are  to  marry?  "  she  faltered  weakly. 

"  No,"  he  replied,  with  ineffable  sadness.     "  This  — " 


460  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

and  again  that  comprehensive  gesture  which  he  had  used 
so  frequently  to  indicate  the  catastrophe  which  had  come 
upon  him,  "  this  has  dashed  that  hope  entirely !  " 

The  actress  stood  completely  confounded.  Within 
herself  she  wondered  why  she  did  not  fly  into  a  jealous 
passion.  Surely  she  was  changing;  she  felt  half  bewil 
dered,  half  distrustful  of  her  own  moods  in  which  she 
had  believed  so  surely  before.  She  was  also  completely 
staggered  by  this  crowning  revelation  of  the  capacity  of 
the  man  for  sacrifice.  Instead  of  the  jealous  passion,  she 
felt  a  sisterly  kind  of  sympathy;  but  it  was  only  after  a 
very  considerable  interval  that  Marien  trusted  herself  to 
ask  with  trembling  voice : 

"She  is  very  —  very  beautiful  —  this  —  this  woman 
whom  you  love  ?  " 

The  question  was  put  very  softly,  meditatively  almost. 

"  To  me,  yes,"  replied  the  minister  with  emphasis.  "  I 
think  you  would  say  so  too." 

"  You  were  engaged  ?  " 

"  Not  when  I  met  you  first ;  but  there  had  been  a  bond 
of  very  close  sympathy  between  us.  After  you  were 
gone,  I  felt  that  I  had  never  really  loved  you;  and  my 
heart  fastened  itself  on  her.  I  loved  her  and  told  her 
so.  But  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  tell  her  the  truth  about  you. 
Manlike,  I  thought  she  would  comprehend.  Woman 
like,  she  comprehended  more  than  I  thought.  She  be 
lieved  me  weak  and  uncertain.  She  loved  me  still,  but 
with  a  pain  of  disappointment  in  her  heart.  She  put  my 
love  upon  a  kind  of  probation.  The  probation  has  lasted 
five  years.  It  was  almost  finished.  After  what  the 
papers  have  published  in  the  past  few  days,  you  can  im 
agine  that  now  all  is  over." 

"  But  you  will  write  to  her?  You  will  see  her?  You 
will  explain?  "  Marien  questioned  in  self-forgetful  eager 
ness. 


THE  TERMS  OF  SURRENDER  461 

"Explain,"  he  smiled  sadly.  "What  a  futility! 
What  explanation  could  there  be  after  what  I  had  told 
her?  You  know  a  woman's  heart.  More  firmly  than 
any  other,  she  would  be  forced  to  an  implicit  belief  in 
what  the  newspapers  have  falsely  intimated  concerning 
our  relations  in  the  past  few  weeks." 

"  But  I  will  go  to  her  myself !  "  Marien  exclaimed  im 
petuously.  "  I  will  tell  her  the  truth." 

"  Do  you  think  she  would  believe  you  ?  "  he  asked 
frankly.  "  Could  you  expect  any  woman  to  believe  in 
your  sincerity  under  such  circumstances,  upon  such  a 
mission?  You  would  not  be  able  to  believe  it  your 
self." 

"You  are  right!"  Marien  admitted  after  a  moment 
of  thought.  "  Once  away  from  the  restraining  influence 
of  your  character,  my  true  nature  would  reveal  itself. 
I  should  hate  her !  I  do  hate  her !  No,  I  could  not  go !  " 

"  And  so,  you  see," —  John  did  not  finish  the  sentence 
but  had  recourse  to  a  helpless  smile  and  a  pathetic  shrug 
of  the  shoulders. 

Marien  lowered  her  veil.  The  interview  was  running 
on  and  on.  It  must  come  to  an  end. 

"  It  all  becomes  uncanny,"  she  exclaimed.  "  There  is 
too  much  converging  upon  your  heart.  There  must 
come  a  rift  in  the  clouds.  I  have  submitted  to  your  com 
pelling  altruism  but  only  for  the  present.  If  something 
does  not  happen  within  a  reasonable  limit  of  time,  I  shall 
positively  and  dangerously  explode !  " 

John  smiled  at  the  vehemence  with  which  she  spoke. 

"  But  in  the  meantime  —  silence !  "  he  adjured  im 
pressively. 

"  Yes,"  she  assented  reluctantly.  "  But  at  the  same 
time  I  shall  not  know  one  gleam  of  happiness,  one  mo 
ment's  freedom  from  mental  anguish  until  your  vindica 
tion  is  flung  widely  to  the  world." 


462  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  But  in  the  meantime,  silence ! "  reiterated  John  ob 
stinately. 

"  And  in  the  meantime,"  she  consented  more  resign 
edly,  "silence!" 

"  Good  night,  Marien,"  said  the  minister,  putting  out 
his  hand. 

"  Good  night,  Doctor  Hampstead,"  she  replied,  seizing 
that  hand  impulsively,  then  flinging  it  from  her  again  as 
she  turned,  without  another  glance,  to  the  door.  It 
closed  behind  her  softly,  considerately  almost,  but  with 
that  same  decisive  snap  of  the  lock  which  had  shut  her 
in  three  quarters  of  an  hour  before. 

Hampstead  stood  a  moment  in  reflection.  She  had 
come  and  she  had  gone,  leaving  behind  a  great  sense  of 
relief,  of  complexities  unraveled,  of  good  accomplished 
and  of  further  danger  averted.  Of  one  thing  he  felt 
sure  now;  he  would  never  go  to  prison.  A  way  would 
be  found  to  avoid  that.  Her  vindictive  malice  had  spent 
itself  and  been  turned  to  an  attempt  at  co-operation. 

But  he  was  still  under  clouds :  one  the  verdict  of  Judge 
Brennan,  "  Held  to  Answer  " ;  the  other  less  black,  but 
larger  and  murkier,  the  cloud  of  public  condemnation; 
and  for  the  present  he  must  remain  under  both.  Besides 
which,  there  was  his  church  and  Elder  Burbeck  to  con 
sider. 

And  to-morrow  was  Sunday! 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

SUNDAY    IN    ALL   PEOPLE'S 

ELDER  BURBECK  did  not  make  good  his  threat. 
Hampstead  stood  again  in  the  pulpit  of  All  People's  on 
Sunday,  as  his  heart  had  so  passionately  desired. 

But  the  reality  disappointed.  The  contrast  between 
this  day  and  last  Lord's  day  was  pitiful.  To  be  sure,  the 
church  was  packed ;  but  not  to  worship.  The  people  — 
curious  and  wooden-hearted  —  had  come  to  be  witnesses 
to  a  spectacle,  to  see  a  man  go  through  the  business  of  a 
role  which  his  character  no  longer  fitted  him  to  enact. 
The  service  and  the  sermon  were  one  long  agony.  John 
spoke  upon  the  duty  of  being  true.  His  words  came  back 
upon  him  like  an  echo. 

As  for  Elder  Burbeck,  he  had  only  halted.  The  minis 
ter,  from  considerations  of  delicacy  which  were  promptly 
'misconstrued,  having  remained  away  from  the  called 
meeting  of  the  Official  Board  on  Saturday  night,  all 
things  in  that  session  had  gone  to  Burbeck's  satisfaction. 
He  held  in  his  pocket  the  resolution  of  the  Board,  recom 
mending  that  the  congregation  request  the  resignation 
of  the  pastor  of  All  People's.  He  might  have  introduced 
this  at  the  close  6f  the  sermon,  thus  turning  the  ordinary 
congregational  meeting  into  a  business  session;  but  the 
Elder  was  an  expert  tactician.  He  decided  to  devote  the 
entire  day  to  a  final  estimate  of  just  what  inroads  the 
week  had  made  upon  the  ascendancy  of  the  minister  with 
his  people. 

However,  the  manner  in  which  the  sermon  was  re- 


464  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

ceived  encouraged  him  to  go  forward  immediately  with 
his  plans.  As  the  congregation  was  upon  the  last  verse 
of  the  last  hymn,  the  Elder  ascended  to  the  pulpit  beside 
the  minister.  He  did  not  look  at  the  minister.  He  did 
not  whisper  that  he  had  an  announcement  to  make,  and 
Hampstead  did  not  say  at  the  end  of  the  hymn :  "  Elder 
Burbeck  has  an  announcement  to  make."  This  was  the 
usual  form.  But  it  was  not  followed.  Instead,  Burbeck, 
unannounced,  with  coarse  self-assertion,  made  the  an 
nouncement  : 

"  There  will  be  a  business  meeting  of  the  church  on 
Monday  night  to  consider  matters  of  grave  import  to  the 
congregation.  Every  member  is  urged  to  be  present." 

There  was  a  grave  doubt  if  the  Elder  had  a  right  of 
himself  to  call  a  meeting  of  the  church.  Yet  the  only 
man  with  force  enough  to  voice  that  doubt  was  the  minis 
ter,  and  he  did  not  voice  it.  Instead,  he  stood  quietly 
until  the  announcement  was  concluded  and  then  invoked 
the  benediction  of  God  upon  all  the  service,  which,  of 
course,  included  the  announcement. 

When  at  the  close  of  the  service  Doctor  Hampstead 
undertook  to  mingle  among  his  people,  according  to  cus 
tom,  he  found  a  minority  hysterically  hearty  in  their  as 
surances  of  confidence,  sympathy,  and  support;  but  the 
majority  avoided  him.  Instead  of  enduring  this  and 
withering  under  it,  the  minister  was  roused  into  some 
thing  like  aggression.  By  confronting  and  accosting 
them,  he  forced  aloof  individuals  to  address  him.  He 
made  his  way  into  groups  that  did  not  open  readily  to 
receive  him.  In  all  conversations  he  frankly  recognized 
his  position,  made  it  the  uppermost  topic,  and  solicited 
opinion  and  advice.  He  even  eavesdropped  a  little. 
Once  people  opened  their  mouths  upon  the  subject,  he 
was  astonished  at  their  frankness.  When  the  sum  total 
of  the  impressions  thus  gathered  was  organized  and  de- 


SUNDAY  IN  ALL  PEOPLE'S  465 

ductions  made,  he  was  stunned  almost  to  cynicism  by 
their  results.  Of  course,  no  one  indicated  that  they  be 
lieved  him  guilty  of  theft,  and  in  the  main  all  accepted 
his  defense  as  the  true  defense.  But  they  found  him 
guilty  of  folly  —  a  folly  with  a  woman.  Whether  it  was 
merely  a  folly  and  not  a  sin,  it  appeared  was  not  to 
greatly  alter  penalties. 

Yet  justice  must  be  done  these  people.  They  felt  sorry 
for  their  minister  and  showed  it;  and  they  only  shrank 
from  him  to  avoid  showing  something  else  that  would 
hurt  him.  They  still  acknowledged  their  debts  of  per 
sonal  gratitude  to  him,  but  now  they  experienced  a  feel 
ing  of  superiority.  Their  weaknesses  had  overtaken 
them  in  private;  his  had  caught  up  with  him  under  the 
spotlight's  glare.  They  looked  upon  him  with  commis 
eration,  pityingly,  but  from  a  lofty  height.  Besides 
which,  they  accused  him  of  an  overt  offense.  He  had 
brought  shame  on  All  People's.  He  had  preached  ta 
them  this  morning  upon  the  duty  of  being  true;  but  he 
had  himself  not  been  true  —  to  the  proud  self-interest  of 
All  People's. 

This  indignant  concern  for  the  reputation  of  All 
People's  was  rather  a  surprising  revelation  to  Hamp- 
stead.  He  had  fallen  into  the  way  of  thinking  that  he 
had  made  All  People's;  that  he  and  All  People's  were 
one.  That  the  congregation  could  have  any  purpose  that 
did  not  include  his  purpose  was  not  thinkable.  He  had 
never  conceived  of  it  as  a  social  organism,  with  self- 
consciousness,  with  pride,  with  a  head  to  be  held  up  and 
a  reputation  to  be  sustained.  To  him  All  People's  was 
not  a  society  of  persons  with  a  pose.  It  was  an  associa 
tion  of  individuals,  each  more  or  less  weak,  more  or  less 
dependent  in  their  spiritual  nature  upon  each  other  and 
upon  him;  the  whole  banded  together  to  help  each  other 
and  to  help  others  like  themselves.  He  had  thought  of: 


466  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

himself  as  the  instrument  of  All  People's  in  its  work  of 
human  salvage.  But  he  now  discovered  that  in  these 
four  years  All  People's  had  suffered  from  an  over  exten 
sion  of  the  ego.  It  had  been  spoiled  by  prosperity  and 
public  approbation,  just  as  other  congregations,  or  in 
dividuals,  might  be  or  have  been.  The  admiration  of 
the  members  for  him  as  their  pastor,  their  humble  obedi 
ence  to  his  will,  was  in  part  due,  not  to  his  spiritual 
ascendancy,  not  to  his  conspicuously  successful  labors  as 
a  helper  of  humankind  in  so  many  different  ways,  but 
to  the  fact  that  these  activities  of  the  minister  won  him 
that  public  admiration  and  approval  which  shed  a  glamour 
also  upon  the  congregation  and  upon  the  individual  mem 
bers  of  the  congregation.  Because  of  this,  they  wor 
shipped  him,  honored  him,  and  palavered  over  him  to  a 
point  where  Hampstead,  no  doubt  as  unconsciously  as 
the  congregation  and  as  dangerously,  had  suffered  an 
over-extension  of  his  own  ego. 

But  deflation  of  spirit  had  come  to  him  swiftly.  Now 
his  own  pride  and  his  own  self-sufficiency  had  all  been 
shot  away.  If  any  remained,  the  effect  of  this  Sunday 
morning  service  was  quite  sufficient  to  perform  the  final 
operation  of  removal. 

He  was  to  preach  that  night  from  the  text:  "  If  God 
is  for  us,  who  is  against  us."  He  gave  up  the  idea.  It 
sounded  egotistical.  He  preached  instead  his  farewell 
sermon,  though  without  a  word  of  farewell  in  it,  from 
the  text: 

"  Brethren,  even  if  a  man  be  overtaken  in  any  trespass, 
ye  who  are  spiritual  restore  such  a  one  in  a  spirit  of 
gentleness;  looking  to  thyself  lest  thou  also  be  tempted." 

That  was  what  the  pastor  of  All  People's  was  trying 
to  do, —  to  restore  a  man.  In  preaching  this  sermon,  he 
forgot  that  this  was  his  valedictory,  forgot  himself,  for 
got  everything  but  the  great  mission  of  spiritual  recon- 


SUNDAY  IN  ALL  PEOPLE'S  467 

struction  upon  which  he  had  labored  and  proposed  to 
labor  as  long  as  life  was  in  him,  no  matter  what  yokes 
and  scars  were  put  upon  him.  In  it  he  reached  the  ora 
torical  height  of  his  career,  which  was  not  necessarily 
lofty. 

But  people  listened  —  and  with  understanding.  Some 
of  them  cried  a  little.  It  made  them  reminiscent.  The 
man  himself,  now  slipping,  had  once  restored  them  with 
great  gentleness.  All  said,  "  What  a  pity !  " 

But  Hampstead,  while  he  spoke,  was  steeling  himself 
against  the  probable  desertion  of  his  congregation.  He 
had  a  feeling  that  he  could  win  them  back  if  he  tried  hard 
enough,  but  he  began  to  doubt  that  they  were  worth  win 
ning  back.  He  had  really  never  sought  to  win  them  to 
himself  personally;  he  would  not  begin  now. 

Instead,  he  saw  himself  cast  out.  The  verdict  of  the 
church  on  Monday  night  would  also  be  "  Held  to 
Answer." 

He  saw  it  coming  almost  gloatingly,  and  with  a  fierce 
up-flaming  of  that  fanatic  ardor  which  was  always  in 
him.  The  desire  came  to  him  to  seize  upon  the  position 
in  which  he  stood  as  a  pulpit  from  which  to  deliver  a 
message  to  the  world  that  greatly  needed  to  be  delivered, 
to  say  something  that  his  fate  and  his  life  thereafter 
might  illustrate,  and  thus  make  his  public  shame  a  greater 
witness  to  the  truth  than  ever  his  popularity  had  been. 
In  one  of  the  loftiest  of  his  moods  of  exaltation,  he  strode 
homeward  from  the  church. 

At  ten  o'clock,  he  telephoned  the  morning  papers  that 
at  midnight  he  would  have  a  statement  to  give  out. 
It  contained  some  rather  extravagant  expressions,  was 
couched  throughout  in  an  exalted  strain,  and  ran  as  fol 
lows  : 


468  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

AN   ADDRESS   TO   THE   PEOPLE 

"  They  tell  me  that  I  have  stood  for  the  last  time  in  the 
pulpit  of  All  People's;  that  on  Monday  night  I  shall  be 
unfrocked  by  the  hands  that  ordained  me;  for  my  minis 
terial  standing  was  created  by  this  church  which  now 
proposes  to  take  it  away.  This  act,  more  than  a  court 
conviction,  will  seem  my  ruin.  I  write  to  say  I  cannot 
call  that  ruin  to  which  a  man  goes  willingly. 

"  It  is  not  my  soul  that  hangs  in  the  balance,  but  an 
other's.  While  this  man  struggles,  I  declare  again  that 
I  will  not  break  in  upon  him.  I  can  reach  out  and  touch 
him ;  but  I  will  not.  He  will  read  this.  I  say  to  him : 
'  Brother,  wait !  Do  not  hurry.  I  can  hold  your  load  a 
while  until  you  get  the  grapple  on  your  spirit/ 

"  But  for  saying  this,  I  am1  cast  out. 

"  Men  observe  to  me :  '  What  a  pity ! '  I  say  to  you : 
'  No  pity  at  all ! ' 

"  Is  a  minister  who  would  not  thus  suffer  worthy  to  be 
a  minister?  The  conception  can  be  broadened.  Is  any 
man?  Is  an  editor  worthy  to  be  an  editor,  a  merchant, 
a  teacher,  a  lawyer,  a  doctor,  standing  as  each  must  at 
sometime  where  the  issue  is  sharply  drawn  between  loy 
alty  and  disloyalty  to  truth  or  trust, —  is  any  of  them 
truly  worthy  or  truly  true,  who  would  not  willingly  suf 
fer  all  that  is  demanded  of  me? 

"  It  does  not  require  a  great  man  to  be  true  to  the  clasp 
of  his  hand :  nor  a  minister.  I  know  policemen  and  mo- 
tormen  who  are  that.  To  be  that,  upon  the  human  side, 
has  been  almost  the  sum  of  my  religious  practice  —  not 
my  profession,  but  my  practice.  By  that  habit  I  have 
gained  what  I  have  gained  —  and  lost  what  I  have  lost. 
Humbled  to  the  dust,  I  dare  yet  to  make  one  boast:  I 
have  not  failed  in  these  small  human  loyalties,  except  as 
my  capacities  have  failed. 


SUNDAY  IN  ALL  PEOPLE'S  469 

"  This  last  act  of  mine,  which  will  be  regarded  as  the 
consummation  of  failure,  is  the  greatest  opportunity  to 
be  true  that  I  have  ever  had. 

"  To  go  forth  on  foot  before  this  community,  held  to 
answer  for  my  convictions,  fills  me  with  a  sense  of  aban 
don  to  immolation  upon  high  altars  that  is  almost  intoxi 
cating. 

"  I  can  almost  wish  it  might  never  be  known  whether 
I  spoke  the  truth  or  not  about  the  Dounay  diamonds; 
that  in  my  death,  unvindicated,  I  might  lie  yonder  on  the 
hills  of  Piedmont;  that  on  a  simple  slab  just  large  enough 
to  bear  it,  might  be  written  no  name  but  only  this : 

"" ' He  believed  something  hard  enough  to  live  for  it* 

"  I  wish  even  that  you  might  crucify  me,  take  me  out 
on  Broadway  here  and  nail  me  to  a  trolley  pole.  But 
you  will  not  do  this.  I  am  not  so  worthy.  You  are  not 
so  brave.  Those  men  had  the  courage  of  their  convic 
tions  who  nailed  up  the  Galilean  and  hurled  down  with 
stones  the  first  martyr.  You  have  not.  Courage  to 
day  survives;  but  it  is  reserved  for  ignoble  struggles. 
Men  are  more  ready  to  die  for  their  appetites  than  to 
live  for  their  convictions.  Men  fear  to  be  uncomfortable, 
to  be  sneered  at,  to  be  defeated.  Paugh !  Defeat  is  not 
a  thing  to  fear.  To  be  untrue  is  the  blackest  terror !  To 
become  involved  for  the  sake  of  one's  convictions  should 
not  be  regarded  as  calamity.  Yet  it  is, —  in  these  soft 
days. 

;<  The  hope  that  the  fall,  even  of  one  so  humble  and 
unimportant  as  I,  may  be  some  slight  protest  against  this 
spirit  of  weakness,  takes  out  the  sting  and  gives  me  a 
delirious  kind  of  joy. 

"  I  would  like  to  have  been  a  great  preacher.  I  am 
not.  I  would  I  had  a  tongue  of  eloquence  to  fire  men 
to  this  passion  of  mine.  I  have  not.  That  is  the  pity! 
I  was  proud  and  jealous  of  my  position.  I  have  lost  it. 


47°  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  Yet  I  do  not  doubt  that  I  shall  find  a  field  of  useful 
ness.  Deep  as  you  hurl  me  down,  I  do  not  doubt  but  that 
there  are  some  to  whom  even  if  condemned,  spurned,  un 
frocked —  oh,  the  eternal  silliness  of  that!  as  if  any  de 
crees  of  men  could  affect  the  standing  or  potentiality  of 
a  soul  —  I  can  come  as  a  welcome  messenger  of  helpful 
ness.  To  them  I  shall  go!  They  may  be  found  here. 
If  so,  I  shall  remain  here  —  go  in  and  out  —  pointed  at 
as  the  man  who  failed. 

"  Perhaps  I  can  even  make  failure  popular.  It  ought 
to  be.  There  is  a  great  need  of  failures  just  now,  for 
men  who  will  fail  for  their  true  success's  sake. 

"  The  world  needs  a  new  standard  of  appraisal.  It 
honors  the  man  whose  success  bulks  to  the  eye.  It  needs 
to  be  a  little  more  discriminating;  to  find  out  why  some 
men  failed,  and  to  honor  them  because  they  are  failures. 
Some  of  the  greatest  men  in  America  and  in  history  were 
failures.  Socrates  with  his  cup  was  a  failure.  Jesus 
was  a  failure.  It  was  written  on  his  back  in  lines  of  blis 
tering  welts.  It  was  nailed  into  his  palms,  stabbed  into 
his  brow,  hissed  into  his  ear  as  he  died. 

"  Re-reading  at  this  midnight  hour  what  I  have  written, 
I  perceive  that  it  sounds  slightly  frenzied.  But  my  soul 
just  now  is  slightly  frenzied.  If  I  wrote  calmly,  un- 
egoistically,  it  would  be  a  lie.  What  is  written  is  what  I 
feel. 

"  Here  and  there  some  will  approve  this  document. 
More  will  sneer  at  it.  But  it  is  mine.  It  is  I.  I  sign  it. 
It  is  my  last  will  and  testament  in  this  community  where 
once  —  daring  to  boast  again  —  I  have  been  a  power. 

"  Friends  —  and    enemies    alike !  —  this    final    word. 

"  I  have  not  grasped  much,  but  this :  To  be  true. 
When  somebody  trusts  you  worthily,  make  good.  Be 
true,  children,  to  the  plans  and  to  the  hopes  of  parents. 
Be  true,  lad,  to  the  impetuous  girl  who  has  trusted  you 


SUNDAY  IN  ALL  PEOPLE'S  471 

with  more  than  she  should  have  trusted  you.  Be  true, 
women,  to  your  lovers  and  your  husbands ;  men  to  your 
wives,  your  partners,  your  fellow  men,  your  patrons;  to 
your  talents,  your  opportunities,  your  country,  your  age, 
your  world!  Be  true  to  God!  If  you  have  no  God,  be 
true  to  your  highest  conception  of  what  God  ought  to  be. 

"  It  sounds  like  a  homily.  It  is  a  principle.  You  can 
multiply  it  indefinitely.  It  runs  like  a  scarlet  thread 
through  religion,  and  it  will  go  all  around  the  borders  of 
life. 

"  Eternal  Loyalty  is  the  Price  of  true  Success. 

"  To  this  conviction  I  subscribe  my  name,  myself  and 
everything  that  still  remains  to  me. 

"  JOHN  HAMPSTEAD, 

"  Pastor  of  All  People's  Church." 

John  felt  that  he  wrote  this  and  that  he  signed  it  in 
the  presence  of  the  Presence.  The  address  and  not  the 
sermon  was  his  valedictory. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

THE   CUP   TOO    FULL 

WHILE  the  Monday  morning  papers  played  up  the 
"  Address  to  the  People  ",  in  the  evening  John  noticed  that 
his  name  had  slipped  off  the  front  page.  This  was  at  once 
a  relief  and  a  bitterness.  It  told  him  that  he  was  done 
for;  that,  as  a  matter  of  news,  he  was  only  a  corpse  wait 
ing  for  the  funeral  pyre.  That  pyre  was  a  matter  to 
which  Elder  Burbeck  was  attending,  assisted  by  a  com 
mittee  of  fellow  zealots  —  male  and  female  —  who  were 
industriously  conducting  a  house-to-house  canvass  of  the 
entire  membership  of  All  People's  during  the  hours  be 
tween  Sunday  at  one  and  Monday  night  at  eight.  De 
spite  the  lofty  mood  of  self-sacrifice  into  which  the  man 
had  worked  himself,  the  knowledge  of  all  this  busy  bell- 
ringing  and  its  sinister  purpose  operated  irritatingly  on 
the  skin  of  Hampstead.  It  made  his  flesh  creep  with  an 
noyance  that  grew  toward  anger. 

But  in  the  midst  of  these  creepings,  a  significant  thing 
happened.  The  Reverend  William  Dudley  Rohan,  pastor 
of  the  largest,  the  richest,  and  by  material  standards  the 
most  influential  protestant  congregation  in  the  city,  came 
in  person  to  call  on  Hampstead,  to  shake  him  by  the  hand 
and  say :  "  Your  address  had  an  apostolic  ring  to  it.  I 
believe  in  you  sincerely." 

In  John's  mail  that  afternoon  there  came  from  Father 
Ansley,  an  influential  priest  of  the  Roman  Catholic  com 
munion,  a  letter  to  similar  effect. 

Moreover,  as  the  activity  of  Elder  Burbeck  developed, 


THE  CUP  TOO  FULL  473 

John  began  to  hear  more  and  more  from  members  of  his 
own  congregation  who  either  refused  to  believe  the 
charges  against  him,  or,  if  not  so  ready  to  acquit,  none 
the  less  refused  to  desert  him  now. 

All  of  these  things  seemed  definitely  to  testify  that  a 
wave  of  reaction  was  upon  its  way.  They  almost  gave  the 
man  hope.  Yet  by  the  end  of  an  hour  of  calculation, 
John  saw  that  after  all  it  was  a  small  wave.  All  Peo 
ple's  church  had  more  than  eleven  hundred  members.  He 
had  not  heard  from  one  fifth  of  them.  Those  who  had 
communicated  or  come  to  press  his  hand  were  very  fre 
quently  the  weak,  obscure,  and  least  influential.  They 
were  the  "  riff-raff  ",  as  Burbeck  would  have  called  them, 
of  the  congregation.  The  pastor  did  not  disesteem  their 
support  on  this  account.  Instead  he  valued  it  a  little 
more;  yet  gave  himself  no  illusions  as  to  its  value  in  a 
battle-line. 

At  the  same  time  his  friends  urged  him  to  organize 
against  the  assaults  of  Elder  Burbeck;  to  send  out  bell- 
ringing  committees  upon  his  own  account.  Yet  he  would 
not  do  this.  He  would  not  make  himself  an  issue.  But 
the  minister's  negatives  were  not  so  stout  as  they  had  been. 
It  was  one  thing  to  write  in  a  frenzy  at  midnight  how 
bravely  he  would  endure  his  fate.  It  was  another  to  wait 
the  creeping  hours  in  passive  fortitude  until  the  blow 
should  fall. 

By  noon  he  confessed  to  himself  that  he  was  feeling 
rather  broken.  For  a  week  he  had  eaten  little,  and  that 
little  nervously,  absently,  and  without  enjoyment.  His 
sleep  had  been  restless  and  unre  freshing.  Strong,  vigo 
rous  as  he  was,  reckless  as  were  the  draughts  that  could  be 
made  upon  his  work-hardened  constitution,  a  fear  that  it 
would  fail  him  now  began  to  agitate  the  man.  He  must 
be  strong  —  physically.  He  must  bear  himself  unyield 
ing  as  Atlas.  His  shoulders,  instead  of  sinking,  must 


474  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

stiffen  as  the  still  heavier  load  rolled  upon  them.  But  his 
mind  also  must  be  strong. 

He  was  almost  mad  with  thinking  on  his  course,  with 
trying  to  reason  out  some  Northwest  Passage  for  his  con 
science.  Every  eventuality  had  been  considered,  every 
resulting  good  or  injury  taken  into  account.  When  he 
did  sleep,  dreams  had  come  to  him  —  horrible,  portending 
dreams  that  lingered  into  wake  fulness  and  filled  the  hours 
with  vague,  tissue-weakening  dread.  He  knew  the  mean 
ing  of  this.  His  brain  was  so  wearied  with  thinking  of 
the  perplexities  which  bristled  round  him  that  the  very 
processes  of  thought  had  begun  to  operate  less  surely. 
Conclusions  that  should  have  stood  out  sharp  and  clear 
became  blurred.  Doubts  and  indecisions  clamored  round 
him.  Things  settled  and  settled  right  came  trooping 
back  to  demand  realignment.  This  alarmed  him  more 
than  anything  else, —  the  fear  that  the  course  he  had 
chosen  and  which  he  knew  to  be  right,  might  seem,  in 
some  moment  when  his  mind  passed  into  a  fog,  the 
wrong  course ;  and  he  would  falter  not  for  lack  of  will  but 
because  of  the  maiming  of  his  judgment. 

He  longed  for  counsel,  to  talk  intimately  with  some 
one,  but  was  afraid,  afraid  he  might  get  the  wrong 
advice  and  follow  it.  The  loyalty  of  Rose,  the  judgment 
of  the  Angel  of  the  Chair,  he  trusted;  but  himself  he  be 
gan  to  mistrust.  Mistrusting  himself,  he  dared  not  talk 
at  all,  lest  he  either  exhibit  signs  of  weakness  that  would 
frighten  Rose,  or  lest,  in  that  weakness,  he  confess  too 
much  to  Mrs.  Burbeck. 

One  fear  like  this  and  one  alarm  acted  to  produce  an 
other  until  something  like  panic  grew  up  in  his  soul.  A 
small  onyx  clock  was  on  the  mantel.  The  hands  pointed 
to  one  —  and  then  to  two  —  and  to  three.  At  eight  he 
must  go  to  the  church  and  see  himself  accused  by  those 
whom  he  loved,  and  for  whom  he  had  labored. 


THE  CUP  TOO  FULL  475 

But  at  half-past  three  he  saw  clearly  that  his  intended 
course  was  wrong,  that  he  should  defend  himself  and 
speak  the  truth:  that  his  silence  was  working  greater  ill 
than  good. 

The  clock  tinkled  four  with  this  decision  still  clear  in 
his  mind.  But  the  tinkling  sound  appeared  to  ring  an 
other  bell  deep  inside  him  —  a  bell  that  boomed  from  far, 
far  away  and  made  him  think  of  some  one's  definition  of 
religion,  "  as  a  power  within  us  not  ourselves  that  makes 
for  godliness."  That  power  had  spoken  out.  It  revived 
the  decision  of  half-past  three.  His  former  course  was 
right.  He  must  not  swerve.  With  a  gesture  of  pain 
and  terror  he  flung  up  his  hands  to  his  brow.  The 
calamity  had  fallen.  His  mind  was  passing  under  a  fog. 
Defiantly  he  tried  auto-suggestion  to  school  his  will 
against  a  possible  reversal  in  the  hour  of  trial,  saying  to 
himself  over  and  over  again:  "I  will  stand!  I  will 
stand !  I  will  stand !  "  He  quoted  frequently  the  words 
of  Paul :  "  And  having  done  all,  to  stand !  " 

At  length  he  fell  back  limply  in  his  chair.  A  vast  irk- 
someness  had  taken  possession  of  him.  He  was  tired  — 
tired  of  thinking  of  It  —  tired  of  waiting  for  It  to  come. 
Why  didn't  the  clock  hurry?  The  coming  of  Tayna  to 
the  study  alone  brought  a  welcome  to  his  eye.  Tayna! 
So  full  of  buoyant,  blooming  youth ;  so  quickly  moved  to 
tears  of  sympathy;  so  lightly  kindled  to  smiling,  happy 
laughter!  Tayna,  her  melting  eyes,  her  red  cheeks,  her 
one  intermittent  dimple,  who  flung  her  long  arms  about 
her  uncle  and  held  him  close  and  silently  as  if  he  had  been 
a  lover ! 

But  it  was  only  a  moment  until  Tayna  too  irked  the 
tortured  man.  The  touch  of  her  cheek  upon  his  cheek  and 
the  aggressive  mingling  of  her  thick  braids  with  his  own 
disheveled  locks,  once  brushed  so  neat  and  high,  now  so 
apt  to  loop  disconsolate  upon  his  temples,  reminded  him 


476  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

of  something  quite  unbearable  but  quite  unbanishable, — 
a  vision,  and  a  vision  which  must  be  entertained  alone. 

"  Stay  here  and  keep  shop/'  her  uncle  said  with  sud 
den  brusqueness,  forcing  her  down  into  his  own  chair  at 
the  desk.  "  I  can  see  no  one ;  talk  to  no  one ;  hear  from 
no  one.  I  am  going  up-stairs !  " 

"  Up-stairs  "  meant  the  long,  half-attic  room  in  which 
Hampstead  slept.  It  ran  the  length  of  the  cottage. 
There  were  windows  in  the  gables,  and  dormers  were 
chopped  in  upon  the  side  toward  the  Bay.  At  one  end, 
pushed  back  toward  the  eaves,  was  a  bed,  fenced  from  the 
eye  by  a  folding  screen.  Far  at  the  other  end  was  a  table, 
a  student-lamp  and  a  few  books.  Between  lay  a  long,  rug- 
strewn  space  which  Hampstead  called  his  "  tramping 
ground." 

Here,  when  he  wished  to  retire  most  completely  from 
the  public  reach,  he  made  his  lair.  Upon  that  rug-strewn 
space  he  had  tramped  out  many  of  the  problems  of  his 
ministry.  In  the  past  week  he  had  walked  miles  between 
one  gable  window  and  the  other,  and  stopped  as  many 
times  to  gaze  out  through  the  dormer  windows  over 
the  crested  tops  of  palms  to  the  dancing  waters  on  the 
Bay. 

But  now  he  had  retreated  there,  not  to  be  alone,  but  be 
cause  he  felt  a  sudden  longing  for  companionship ;  and  for 
a  certain  and  particular  companionship.  That  touch  of 
Tayna's  soft  cheek  upon  his  own  had  brought  with  sting 
ing  poignancy  the  recollection  of  what  the  presence  of 
Bessie  would  be  now, —  Bessie  as  she  once  had  been,  dear, 
loyal,  sympathetic,  wise ;  as  she  had  begun  to  be  again  De- 
fore  that  last  trip  east ;  as  she  would  have  been  when  she 
returned  and  found  him  still  strong  and  faithful. 

Yet  now  she  would  never  come.  She  was  in  Chicago 
to-day  —  no,  upon  the  Atlantic.  Last  week  was  her  final 
week.  She  had  been  getting  her  degree  there  while  his 


THE  CUP  TOO  FULL  477 

unfrocking  was  beginning  here.  She  was  attaining  her 
high  hope  as  he  was  losing  his.  'He  had  meant  to  tele 
graph  her  his  congratulations,  but  he  had  forgotten  it. 
That  was  just  as  well  now.  All  this  hissing  of  the  poi 
soned  tongues  must  have  poured  into  her  ears.  The  old 
doubts  would  be  revived.  She  would  feel  herself  shamed, 
humiliated,  all  but  compromised  by  these  disclosures,  and 
she  would  never  see  —  never  communicate  with  him 
again.  No  letter  had  come  in  that  last  week,  no  telegram 
from  the  ship's  side.  That  proved  it  clearly.  She  was 
lost  to  him. 

Yet  now  his  church  —  his  liberty  —  his  reputation  — 
nothing  else  that  he  had  lost  or  might  lose  seemed  worth 
while.  He  wanted  only  her,  cared  only  about  her.  His 
duty  had  melted  into  mist.  He  could  not  see  its  out 
lines.  But  there  was  a  face  in  the  mist,  her  face ;  and  a 
form,  her  form.  And  he  would  never  see  her  in  any 
other  way  but  this  way  —  a  vision  to  haunt  and  mock 
and  torture  him. 

Thinking  these  thoughts  over  and  over  again,  the  man 
walked  steadily  from  gable's  end  to  gable's  end  and  back 
again,  until  his  legs  lost  all  sense  of  feeling;  but  still  he 
walked,  and  occasionally  his  fists  were  clenched  and  beat 
upon  his  chest,  while  an  expression  of  agony  looked  out  of 
his  eyes. 

The  Reverend  John  Hampstead,  pastor  of  All  People's, 
a  man  of  some  victories  and  of  some  defeats,  a  man  of 
some  strength  and  of  some  weaknesses,  was  fighting  his 
most  important  and  his  hardest  battle,  and  he  knew  it. 
And  he  was  no  longer  fit.  The  preliminary  days  of  bat 
tling  in  the  lower  spurs  and  ranges  had  exhausted  him. 
The  summit  was  still  above.  The  higher  he  toiled,  the 
weaker  he  grew ;  the  greater  need  for  strength,  the  less  he 
had  to  offer.  He  felt  his  purpose  sag,  his  courage  break 
ing.  He  had  faced  too  much,  and  faced  it  too  long  and 


478  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

too  solitarily.  Others  had  sympathetically  tried  to  get 
into  his  heart,  and  he  had  shut  them  out.  It  was  a  place 
which  only  one  could  enter,  and  she  was  not  there.  Now 
he  knew  that  she  would  never  be  there. 

That  was  the  final  mockery  of  his  fate.  At  the  time 
when  he  loved  her  most,  when  he  needed  her  most,  when 
before  God,  he  deserved  her  most,  she  was  most  irretriev 
ably  lost.  The  pang  of  this,  the  awful  inevitableness  of 
it,  broke  him  like  a  reed.  From  time  to  time  he  had 
sighed  heavily,  but  now  a  dry  sob  shivered  in  his  broad 
breast.  His  shoulders  shook,  and  then  his  legs  crumpled 
under  him;  he  was  on  his  knees  and  sinking  lower  and 
lower,  like  a  man  beaten  down,  blow  upon  blow,  until  at 
length  he  lies  prostrate  before  his  foes. 

"  Not  that,  O  God,"  he  sobbed;  "  not  that!  I  cannot 
—  I  cannot  lose  her.  Leave  me,  oh,  leave  me  this  one 
thing !  I  ask  nothing  more !  Nothing  more." 

There  was  silence  for  an  interval  and  then  the  plead 
ings  began  more  earnestly,  more  piteously.  "  O  God,  give 
me  her!  Give  me  love!  Give  me  completeness!  Give 
me  that  without  which  no  man  is  strong,  the  undoubting 
love  of  an  unwavering  woman !  Give  me  that  and  I  can 
face  anything  —  endure  anything !  " 

For  a  moment  his  hands,  virile  and  outstretched, 
grasped  convulsively  the  far  edges  of  the  Indian  rug  on 
which  he  had  fallen,  and  thrust  themselves  through  the 
stoutly  woven  fabric  as  if  it  had  been  wet  paper.  Scald 
ing  drops  had  begun  to  flow  from  his  eyes  like  rivers.  He 
seized  the  fabric  of  the  rug  in  his  teeth  and  bit  it.  He 
forced  the  thick  folds  against  his  eyes  as  if  to  dam  the 
flooding  tears. 

"  It  is  too  much !  It  is  too  much !  "  he  moaned.  "  O 
God,"  he  reproached,  "  you  have  left  me ;  you  have  left  me 
alone  and  far.  I  have  stood,  but  I  am  tottering."  He 
dropped  into  a  sort  of  vernacular  in  his  blind  pleadings. 


THE  CUP  TOO  FULL  479 

"  I  can  go,  I  can  go  the  route,  but  I  cannot  go  it  alone. 
Give  me  her,  O  God,  give  me  her!  " 

His  voice,  half-delirious,  died  out  in  a  final  withering 
sob,  as  if  the  last  atom  of  his  strength  had  gone  with  this 
passionate,  hoarse,  uttermost  plea  of  his  soul.  His  great 
fingers  stretching  out  again  to  the  limit  of  his  arm, 
knotted  and  unknotted  themselves  and  then  grew  still. 
The  shoulders,  too,  were  motionless.  The  face  was 
turned  on  one  side;  the  profile  of  the  ridged  forehead  and 
the  thrust  of  nose  and  chin,  so  strongly  carved,  appeared 
against  the  grotesque  pattern  of  the  rug  as  features  deli 
cately  chiseled.  The  eyes  were  open,  tearless  now  and 
staring.  They  had  expression,  but  it  was  the  expression 
of  the  beaten  man.  The  mouth  was  parted,  and  the  firm 
lines  were  gone  from  it.  It  was  the  old,  loose,  flabby 
mouth  that  had  once  marked  the  weak  spot  in  the  charac 
ter  of  the  man.  Again  the  man  was  weak.  He  lay  so 
still  that  life  itself  seemed  to  have  gone.  The  wandering 
afternoon  breeze  that  stole  in  through  one  gable  window 
and  went  romping  out  at  the  other  played  with  the  mass 
of  hair  upon  his  brow  as  indifferently  as  if  it  had  been  a 
tuft  of  grass. 

Even  the  man's  enemies  must  have  pitied  him  had  they 
seen  him  now.  Searle,  standing  over  him,  would  have 
felt  a  twinge  of  conscience.  Elder  Burbeck,  before  that 
spectacle,  would  at  least  have  paused  long  enough  to  mur 
mur,  sincerely,  with  upturned  eyes  and  a  grave  shake  of 
the  head,  "  God  be  merciful  to  him,  a  sinner."  But 
neither  Searle  nor  Burbeck,  nor  any  other  eye  was  there 
to  see  how  he  lay  nor  how  long.  Perhaps  not  even  Tayna, 
crouching  on  the  stairs  outside,  hearing  his  sobbings 
and  venting  tear  for  tear,  could  have  computed  the 
time. 

Surely  the  man  knew  nothing  himself  except  that  he 
fell  asleep  and  dreamed,  this  time  not  horribly,  but  felici- 


480  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

tously, —  a  dream  of  Bessie;  that  she  was  coming  to  him; 
that  she  was  there.  It  was  such  a  beautiful  dream.  It 
took  all  the  strain  out  of  the  muscles  of  his  face. 
It  tickled  the  flabby  mouth  into  smiles  of  happiness.  It 
triumphed  over  everything  else.  It  made  every  expe 
rience  through  which  he  had  gone  seem  a  high  and  beauti 
ful  experience  because  it  brought  him  Bessie. 

A  knock  at  the  door  awoke  him.  It  was  such  a  cruel 
awakening.  Bessie  was  not  there.  His  cheeks  were  hard 
and  stiff  where  tears  had  dried  upon  them.  His  shoulders 
and  neck  ached  from  the  position  in  which  he  had  slept. 
The  rug  was  rumpled.  The  room  was  bleak  and  desolate. 
The  breeze  was  chill  and  gloomy.  The  situation  in  which 
he  stood  came  to  him  again  with  appealing  acuteness  and 
stung  his  memory  like  scourging  whips.  He  rose  with 
pain  in  his  mind,  pain  in  his  heart,  pain  in  every  tissue 
of  his  body. 

But  there  are  worse  things  than  pain.  John  was  ap 
palled  to  realize  that  he  had  risen  a  quaking  coward. 

The  knock  had  sounded  again.  It  was  a  soft  knock,  but 
it  echoed  loud,  like  the  crack  of  doom.  It  stood  for  the 
outside  world ;  it  stood  for  the  accusing  finger ;  it  stood  for 
the  felon's  brand;  it  stood  for  the  great  monster,  Ruin, 
which  threatened  him,  which  terrorized  him,  which  he  had 
faced  courageously,  but  which  at  last  through  the  work 
ings  of  his  own  morbid  imagination  and  the  tentacles  of  a 
great  love,  torn  blood-dripping  from  his  heart,  had  over 
awed  him.  Before  this  monster  he  now  shrank,  cowering 
as  only  six  days  before  he  had  seen  Rollie  Burbeck  cower. 
He  said  to  himself  that  he,  John  Hampstead,  was  the 
greater  coward.  Rollie  had  faltered  in  the  face  of  his 
crime.  He,  the  priest  of  God,  was  faltering  in  the  face 
of  his  duty.  He  retreated  from  his  own  presence  aghast 
at  the  thought.  He  looked  about  him  wildly,  and  saw  his 
features  in  the  glass.  It  was  a  coward's  face.  He  felt 


THE  CUP  TOO  FULL  481 

something  stagger  in  his  breast.  It  was  his  coward's 
heart ! 

Again  the  knock  sounded.  Not  because  he  had  grown 
brave  again,  but  because  he  had  grown  too  weak  to 
resist  even  a  knock  upon  a  door,  he  gave  the  rug  a  kick 
that  half  straightened  it,  and  in  the  tone  of  one  who,  de 
spairing  help,  bids  his  torturers  advance,  he  called: 
"  Come  in." 

But  instead  of  waiting  to  see  who  entered,  he  turned 
his  back  and  walked  off  down  the  room  with  slow,  dis 
consolate  stride,  head  hanging,  shoulders  drooping,  knees 
trembling,  feet  dragging,  utterly  unmindful  to  preserve 
longer  the  pose  of  strength  even  before  the  dear 
ones  whom  he  wished  above  all  to  see  him  brave  and 
strong. 

It  was  the  silence  of  the  one  who  entered  that  made  him 
turn  slowly,  staring,  his  form  lifting  itself  to  its  full 
height,  and  a  hand  rising  to  sweep  the  hanging  hair  from 
his  eyes  as  he  gazed  for  a  moment  in  unbelieving  bewilder 
ment  and  then  hoarsely  shouted : 

"  Bessie !     Bessie !     Is  it  you  ?  " 

Before  the  broken,  paralyzed  man  could  leap  to  meet 
her,  the  young  woman  had  flung  herself  into  his  arms, 
with  a  cry  almost  of  pain :  "  John !  Oh,  John !  " 

He  clasped  her  hysterically,  half  laughing  and  half  sob 
bing:  "Thank  God!  Thank  God!"  and  then,  mur 
muring  incoherently,  "  It  is  the  answer  of  the  Father !  It 
is  the  answer  of  the  Father !  " 

Bessie,  the  first  surge  of  her  emotions  over,  stood  look 
ing  up  into  John's  storm-stressed  face,  with  glistening, 
happy  eyes. 

It  was  evident  that  all  the  vapor  of  her  doubt  and  mis 
understanding  had  been  burned  away.  She  was  again  the 
old  Bessie.  She  had  started  to  him  by  an  instinct  of 
loyalty,  spurred  by  a  love  that  had  refused  to  die,  yet, 


482  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

womanlike,  was  still  doubting.  But  the  moving  picture 
which  the  papers  of  succeeding  days  had  reeled  before  her 
eyes  as  her  train  sped  westward;  the  solemn  face  of  Rose, 
the  teary  eyes  of  Tayna,  whom  she  had  found  sitting  at 
the  foot  of  the  stairs  outside ;  and  now  this  glimpse  of  that 
stooping,  passionately  despairing,  hopelessly  broken  figure 
were  enough  to  banish  doubt  forever.  They  testified  that 
John  Hampstead,  in  the  soul  of  him,  was  true  —  to  love 
as  to  duty  —  that  he  had  burned  out  the  scar  of  his  first 
disloyalty  to  her  in  the  fires  of  intense  suffering. 

Her  radiant  beauty,  the  soft,  trusting  blue  of  her  eyes, 
the  wonderful  witchery  of  smiling  lips  and  dimpling 
cheeks,  the  proud,  happy,  worshipful  look  upon  her  face, 
all  proclaimed  the  bounding  joy  with  which  she  hurled 
herself  again  into  his  life. 

John  perceived  this  in  ecstasy.  Bessie  was  not  lost  to 
him,  but  won  to  him  by  what  had  happened.  The  mere 
perception  threw  him  into  a  frenzy  of  joy,  and  yet  it  was  a 
reversal  of  probabilities  so  sudden  and  so  overwhelming 
that  he  dared  not  accept  it  unattested. 

"  But,  Bessie,"  he  protested.     "  But,  Bessie?  " 

"  But  nothing !  "  she  answered  stoutly,  flinging  her 
arms  once  more  about  his  neck  and  drawing  his  lips  down 
to  hers,  while  she  passionately  stamped  them  again  and 
again  with  the  seal  of  her  love  and  faith. 

With  the  submission  of  a  child,  and  under  the  stimulus 
of  such  convincing,  such  deliciously  thrilling  demonstra 
tion  as  this,  the  strong-weak  man  surrendered  uncondi 
tionally  to  an  acceptance  of  facts  at  once  so  undeniable  and 
so  excitingly  happy. 

But  the  articles  of  surrender  could  not  be  signed  in 
words.  He  drew  her  close  to  him  and  held  her  there 
long  and  silently,  feeling  his  heart  beat  violently  against 
her  own,  and  at  the  same  time  his  tissues  filling  with  new 
and  glowing  strength.  A  sigh  from  Bessie,  softly  audi- 


THE  CUP  TOO  FULL  483 

ble  and  blissfully  long-drawn,  broke  the  silence  and  the 
pose. 

John  held  her  at  arm's  length  —  his  eyes  a-dance  with 
the  emotional  riot  of  an  experience  so  foreign  to  the 
ascetic  life  which  his  character  had  forced  upon  him  that 
he  felt  the  wish  for  anchorage  at  which  to  moor  himself 
and  his  joys.  Such  a  mooring  was  offered  by  the  long, 
wide  window  seat  before  the  dormer  which  looked  over 
palms  and  acacias  to  the  Bay. 

Taking  Bessie  by  the  hand,  he  led  her  to  this  tiny 
haven. 

"  Oh,  John,"  she  murmured,  with  a  flutter  in  her  voice 
and  a  sudden  gust  of  happy  tears,  as  she  cuddled  down 
against  his  shoulder,  "  it  has  been  such  a  long,  cruel  wait, 
hasn't  it?  Such  a  hilly,  roundabout  way  that  we  have 
traveled  to  know  and  get  to  each  other  at  last." 

"  But  now  it's  over,"  he  breathed  contentedly,  sway 
ing  her  body  gently  with  his  own. 

As  if  a  tide  had  taken  them,  they  drifted  out;  two 
argonauts  upon  the  sea  of  love  with  the  window  seat  for 
a  bark,  and  soon  were  cruising  far  out  of  sight  of  land. 
There  was  little  talk.  Words  were  so  unnecessary.  To 
feel  the  presence  of  each  other  was  quite  enough.  For 
the  time  being,  degrees  and  careers  and  private  cars, 
courts  and  newspapers,  actresses  and  diamonds,  elders 
and  church  trials,  were  sunk  entirely  below  the  hori 
zon. 

Bessie  was  first  to  come  back  from  this  nebulous  state 
of  bliss  to  the  more  tangible  realities  of  the  situation. 
With  her  lover  so  close  and  so  secure,  she  experienced 
a  stirring  of  possessive  instincts  accompanied  by  an  im 
pulse  to  caretaking.  John  was  hers  now,  and  he  re 
quired  attention.  With  a  soft  hand  she  smoothed  the 
yellow  locks  backward  from  his  brow.  With  pliant 
fingers  she  sought  to  iron  out  the  lines  of  care  from  his 


484  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

face,  and  with  lingering,  affectionate  lips  to  kiss  the  tear- 
stiffness  from  his  eyelids. 

To  the  man  of  loneliness,  these  attentions  were  ex 
quisitely  delightful.  They  soothed  and  fortified  him. 
They  calmed  his  nerves  and  ministered  to  clarity  of 
thought.  This  was  well,  for  there  were  things  that 
needed  to  be  said  as  well  as  those  which  needed  to  be 
done. 

Dusk  was  falling.  John  arose,  lighted  a  pendant  bulb 
in  the  center  of  the  long  attic,  and  sat  down  again,  taking 
Bessie's  hand  in  his  while  he  told  her  the  story  of  the 
diamonds  as  he  had  told  it  in  court  —  told  her  so  much 
and  no  more;  then  stopped.  The  cessation  was  abrupt, 
decisive,  but  also  interrogatory.  John  could  not  tell  Bes 
sie  more  than  he  could  tell  any  one  else  and  be  true  to  his 
vow.  Would  she  appreciate  this  and  acquiesce?  Or 
would  she  resent  it? 

Bessie  understood  the  question  in  the  silence.  Her  an 
swer  was  to  snuggle  closer  and  after  allowing  time  for 
this  action  to  interpret  itself,  to  say : 

"  That  must  be  the  bravest,  hardest  thing  you  have 
done,  John  dear;  to  stop  just  there,  when  telling  me." 

"  It  was,"  he  answered  softly. 

"  It  makes  me  trust  you  further  than  ever,"  she  as 
sured  him,  passing  her  hand  under  his  chin  and  pulling 
his  cheek  to  hers,  again  with  that  instinct  of  possession. 
"  You  must  not  be  less  true  but  more,  because  of  me,"  she 
breathed  softly. 

"  But  there  is  one  thing  I  can  tell  you,"  he  continued, 
"  which  no  one  else  knows  nor  can  know  now." 

And  then  he  told  her  of  Marien's  visit.  The  girl  lis 
tened  at  first  with  cheeks  flaming  hot  and  her  blue  eyes 
fixed  and  sternly  hard.  Yet  as  the  narrative  proceeded, 
she  grew  thoughtful  and  then  considerate,  breaking  in 
finally  with: 


THE  CUP  TOO  FULL  485 

"  But  she  did  it  so  wantonly,  so  irresponsibly ;  what 
reparation  does  she  propose?" 

"  To  immediately  make  a  public  confession  that  her 
charge  against  me  was  utterly  false,"  replied  John, 
strangely  moved  to  speak  defensively  for  Marien. 

"  She  will  do  that?"  exclaimed  Bessie,  her  face  alive 
with  excitement  and  intense  relief. 

"  She  would  have  done  it,"  answered  John,  "  but  I  for 
bade  her." 

"Forbade  her?  Oh,  John!"  The  soft  eyes  looked 
amazement  and  reproach. 

"  Yes,"  acknowledged  John  in  a  steady  voice.  "  You 
see,  her  word  would  become  instantly  worthless.  To  be 
believed,  her  confession  would  have  to  be  supported  by 
the  naming  of  the  real  thief." 

"  And  is  the  saving  of  a  thief  worth  more  to  you  than 
your  church  —  your  good  name  —  your  —  your  every 
thing?" 

"  In  my  conception,  yes,"  John  answered  seriously. 
"  That  is  what  I  have  a  church,  a  name,  everything,  for; 
to  use  it  all  in  saving  people  —  or  in  helping  them,  if  the 
other  is  too  strong  a  word." 

As  her  lover  spoke  in  this  lofty,  detached,  meditative 
tone,  Bessie  held  him  off  and  studied  him.  This  was  the 
new  John  Hampstead  speaking;  the  man  she  did  not 
know;  the  man  who,  up  to  the  hour  when  cruel  scandal 
smirched  it,  had  stirred  this  community  with  the  example 
of  his  life.  Before  this  new  man  she  felt  her  very  soul 
bowing.  She  had  loved  the  old  John.  She  adored  the 
new. 

"  Oh,  John !  How  brave !  How  strong !  How  right 
you  are !  "  she  exclaimed,  with  a  note  of  adoration  in  her 
voice. 

A  pang  of  self-reproach  shot  through  the  big  man. 

"  Not  so  brave  —  not  so  strong  as  I  must  —  as  I  ought 


486  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

to  be,"  he  hastened  to  explain.  "  In  fact,  I  have  been 
doubting  even  if  I  were  right,  after  all." 

Bessie's  startled  look  brought  out  of  him  like  a  con 
fession  the  story  of  the  last  hours  before  her  coming; 
the  full  meaning  of  the  state  in  which  she  found  him; 
how  the  burden  of  it  all  had  overtoppled  him;  how  she 
had  come  to  find  him  not  brave  and  certain,  but  doubting. 

"  But  now,"  she  affirmed  buoyantly,  "  you  are  strong, 
you  are  certain  again." 

The  very  radiance,  the  fresh  youthful  happiness  on  the 
face  of  Bessie,  checked  the  assent  to  this  which  was  on 
his  lips.  He  suddenly  thought  of  what  this  action  would 
mean  to  her,  this  beautiful,  loving,  aspiring  young  woman. 
She  was  his  wife  now  in  spirit.  By  some  miracle  of  God 
their  lives  had  in  a  moment  been  fused  unalterably.  He 
might  bear  a  stigma  for  himself,  but  had  he  a  right  to 
assume  a  stigma  for  her  ? 

"  Why,  John,"  she  murmured,  wonder  mingling  with 
mild  reproach,  as  she  saw  him  hesitate. 

"  Listen,  my  girl,"  began  her  lover,  with  infinite  sym 
pathy  and  tenderness  in  his  manner,  and  gravely  he  re- 
sketched  the  elements  in  the  situation  as  they  would  apply 
to  her. 

Bessie  did  listen,  and  as  gravely  as  John  spoke  to  her, — 
listened  until  her  eyes  were  first  perplexed  and  then  down 
cast.  Sitting  thus,  seeing  nothing,  she  saw  everything; 
all  that  it  might  mean  to  her  to  become  the  partner  of 
this  public  shame.  She  thought  of  her  college  friends, 
of  her  mother  with  her  social  aspirations,  of  her  strong 
and  high-standing  father  and  the  circle  of  his  business 
and  personal  associates ;  of  the  part  she  hoped  herself  to 
play  in  the  new  political  life  that  was  coming  to  her  sex. 
She  saw  it  and  for  a  moment  was  afraid,  cowering  be 
fore  it  as  her  lover  had  cowered.  John,  in  an  agony  of 
suspense,  watched  this  conflict  staging  itself  graphically 


THE  CUP  TOO  FULL  487 

upon  the  features  he  loved  so  deeply,  gleaning  as  he  waited 
another  two-edged  truth,  and  that  truth  this :  The  love  of 
a  woman  may  make  a  man  surpassingly  stronger;  it  may 
also  make  him  immeasurably  weaker.  It  depends  on  the 
woman.  He  was  weaker  now.  He  had  accepted  her, 
demanded  her  of  God,  and  God  had  given  her.  She 
was  part  of  him  now.  It  must  no  longer  be  his  judgment 
but  their  judgment  which  ruled.  She  was  forming  their 
judgment  now.  He  leaned  forward  apprehensively,  like 
a  criminal  awaiting  his  fate.  He  had  surrendered  his 
independence  of  action.  Had  he  gained  or  lost  thereby? 

Bessie  stood  up  suddenly.  Her  face  was  still  white, 
but  her  square  little  chin  with  its  softly  rounded  comers 
was  firmly  set. 

*''  Your  decision,"  she  affirmed  stoutly,  "  was  the  right 
decision.  Your  course  has  been  the  right  course.  You 
must  not  waver  now.  I  command  —  I  compel  you  to 
go  straight  forward.  And  I  will  stand  with  you  —  go  out 
with  you.  From  this  moment  on,  your  duty  is  my  duty; 
your  lot  shall  be  my  lot." 

A  smile  of  heavenly  happiness  broke  like  a  sunset  on  the 
face  of  Hampstead. 

"  Thank  God !  "  he  murmured  reverently ;  "  thank 
God!" 

And  then  as  a  surging  Niagara  of  new  strength  rushed 
over  him,  he  clasped  her  tightly,  exclaiming  enthusiasti 
cally  :  "  I  feel  strong  enough  now,  strong  enough  for 
everything !  " 

Standing  thus,  smiling  blissfully  into  each  other's  faces, 
the  lovers  became  again  the  two  argonauts  upon  a  shore 
less,  timeless  sea.  As  they  came  back,  Bessie,  a  look 
half  mischievous  and  half  bashful  upon  her  face,  pleaded 
softly: 

"  John !     Ask  me  something,  please  ?  " 

"  Ask  you  something,"  her  lover  murmured,  with  a 


488  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

look  of  dutiful  affection,  "  why,  there  is  nothing  more 
that  I  can  ask."  He  sighed  contentedly. 

"  But  put  it  into  words.  Something  to  which  I  can 
answer  Yes,"  she  said,  a  happy  blush  stealing  across  her 
cheeks. 

The  big  man  gazed  at  her  with  a  puzzled  expression. 

"  So  —  so  that  our  engagement  can  be  announced  in 
the  papers  to-morrow  morning." 

John  asked  her,  grimacing  delight  in  his  sudden  com 
prehension,  and  took  her  answer  in  a  kiss.  But  immedi 
ately  after  he  became  serious. 

"  To-morrow  morning?"  he  queried  apprehensively; 
and  then  answered  the  interrogation  himself.  "  No,  not 
to-morrow,  Bessie.  Not  soon.  Later.  When  the  issues 
are  decided.  When  we  know  the  worst  that  is  to  fall. 
Not  now.  You  must  protect  yourself  as  well  as  your 
father  and  your  mother  from  such  notoriety !  " 

But  Bessie's  own  uncompromising  spirit  flashed. 

"  No,"  she  exclaimed  with  a  stamp  of  her  foot  that 
was  characteristic.  "  Now !  This  is  when  you  need  me ! 
Now  you  are  my  affianced  husband ;  I  want  the  world  to 
know  that  he  is  not  as  friendless  as  he  seems.  That  we 
who  know  him  best  believe  him  most.  Do  you  know,  big 
man,  that  my  parents  cancelled  their  European  trip  and 
have  been  rushing  across  the  continent  with  me  in  a  special 
train  faster  than  anybody  ever  crossed  before,  just  to 
come  and  stand  by  you.  Mother  had  a  headache  and  is 
resting  at  the  St.  Albans,  but  father  and  I  —  why,  father 
is  down-stairs  in  the  study  waiting.  He  must  have  been 
there  hours  and  hours.  Father !  " 

Bessie  had  rushed  across  the  room  and  flung  open  the 
door  leading  downward. 

"  Father,"  she  cried.     "  Father !     We  are  coming." 

"  What's  the  hurry  ?  "  boomed  back  a  big,  ironic  voice 
that  proceeded  from  the  round  moon  of  an  amiable  face 


THE  CUP  TOO  FULL  489 

in  the  open  door  of  the  study  near  the  foot  of  the  stairs. 
The  face,  of  course,  belonged  to  Mr.  Mitchell,  and  he  en 
larged  upon  his  first  gentle  sarcasm  by  adding :  "  I 
bought  a  thousand  freight  cars  the  other  day  in  less  time 
than  it  has  taken  you  people  to  come  to  terms." 

Nevertheless,  he  greeted  his  former  employee  with  cor 
dial  and  sincere  affection,  while  Bessie,  radiantly  happy 
but  a  little  confused,  asked: 

"  What  must  have  you  been  thinking  all  this  time?  " 

"  Mostly  I  was  thinking  what  a  superfluous  person  a 
father  comes  to  be  all  at  once,"  laughed  Mr.  Mitchell. 
"  Isn't  there  anything  I  can  do  at  all  ? "  he  asked,  with 
mock  seriousness. 

"  Yes,"  rejoined  Bessie  in  the  same  spirit.  "  Tele 
phone  the  papers  to  announce  the  engagement  of  your 
daughter  to  the  Reverend  John  Hampstead,  pastor  of  All 
People's  Church." 

"  Oh,  I  did  that  after  the  first  hour  and  a  half,"  ex 
claimed  the  railroad  man,  laughing  heartily. 

But  the  situation  was  too  grave,  the  feelings  of  all  were 
too  tense,  to  sustain  this  spirit  of  badinage  for  long. 
Bessie  and  Tayna  fell  upon  each  other  with  instant  liking. 
Even  Dick  and  Rose  seemed  able  to  forget  the  crisis  which 
overhung  them  in  the  sudden  advent  of  this  beautiful 
young  woman  who  had  come  into  their  ken  again  so  sud 
denly  and  so  mysteriously,  and  seemed  to  represent  in 
herself  and  her  father  such  a  sudden  and  vast  access  of 
prestige  and  power  to  the  cause  of  their  uncle  and 
brother. 

John  and  his  old  employer  sat  down  in  the  study  for  a 
quiet  talk  in  which  the  minister  related  what  he  had  told 
Bessie,  the  circumstances  in  which  he  stood,  and  finally 
and  especially,  his  new  compunction  and  Bessie's  firm  de 
cision. 

"  She  was  right !  "    The  heavy  jaws  of  Mitchell  snapped 


490  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

decisively.  "  The  whole  thing  is  a  community  brain 
storm.  It  will  pass." 

"  The  criminal  charge,"  began  John,  feeling  relieved  and 
yet  looking  serious. 

"  Nothing  to  that  at  all,"  answered  the  practical  Mitch 
ell,  with  quick  decision.  "  Ridiculous !  You're  morbid 
from  brooding  over  all  this.  From  the  minute  this 
woman  comes  to  you  with  her  admission,  you  must  have 
just  ordinary  horse  sense  enough  to  see  that  between 
us  all  we  can  find  a  way  to  stop  that  prosecution  without 
making  it  necessary  to  expose  anybody  at  all." 

Mitchell,  observing  Hampstead  closely,  saw  that  he  was 
rather  careless  of  this;  that  in  fact  he  only  thought  of 
it  when  he  thought  of  Bessie;  that  the  one  thing  gnawing 
into  him  now  was  the  action  of  the  church.  That  was 
something  outside  of  Mitchell's  experience.  Whether  a 
church  more  or  less  unfrocked  his  future  son-in-law  was 
small  concern.  He  was  a  man  who  thought  in  thousands 
of  miles  and  millions  of  people. 

"  Come,  Bessie,"  he  called,  "  we  must  be  getting  back 
to  the  hotel." 

"  You  will  stay  for  dinner,  Mr.  Mitchell  ?  "  suggested 
John. 

"  No,  I'll  be  getting  back  to  mother.  I  just  came  to 
tell  you  that  I  am  with  you.  My  attorneys  will  be  your 
attorneys.  My  friends  and  my  influence  will  be  your 
influence.  Some  of  these  newspapers  may  bark  out  of 
the  other  corner  of  their  mouths  after  they've  heard  from 
me.  Come  on,  Bessie !  " 

"  But,"  demurred  Bessie,  "  I'm  not  coming.  I  am  go 
ing  to  the  church  to-night  to  sit  beside  John." 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE   ELDER   IN    THE    CHAIR 

THE  auditorium  of  All  People's  was  cunningly  con 
trived  to  bring  a  very  large  number  of  people  close  to 
each  other  and  to  the  minister.  Roughly  semicircular, 
with  bowled  main  floor  and  rimmed  around  by  a  gallery 
that  edged  nearer  and  nearer  at  the  sides,  it  was  possible 
to  seat  fifteen  hundred  persons  where  a  man  in  the  pulpit 
could  look  each  individual  in  the  eye,  and  except  where 
the  screen  of  the  gallery  broke  in,  each  auditor  could  see 
every  other  auditor. 

The  special  meeting  for  an  object  unannounced  but 
clearly  understood  was,  of  course,  an  assemblage  of  the 
church  itself;  yet  so  great  was  the  general  interest  in 
what  was  to  transpire,  and  so  willing  were  the  moving 
spirits  to  play  out  their  act  in  public,  that  no  one  was 
turned  away.  By  an  instruction  from  Elder  Burbeck, 
the  ushers  merely  sifted  people,  sending  the  members  to 
the  main  floor,  and  the  non-members  up-stairs  into  the 
gallery. 

Hampstead  entered  the  church  at  precisely  eight  o'clock. 

The  auditorium  was  filled  with  the  buzz  of  many  voices, 
but  as  the  pastor  of  All  People's  advanced  down  the  aisle, 
this  hum  gradually  ceased,  and  every  eye  was  turned  upon 
the  man,  who  tall  and  grave,  with  features  slightly  wasted, 
nevertheless  wore  a  look  serenely  confident  and  even 
happy. 

This  expression  in  itself  was  instant  occasion  for  won 
der  and  surprise.  Was  this  man  really  unbreakable? 


492  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

Knowing  nothing  of  what  had  happened  in  the  day  to  en 
courage  its  pastor  and  make  him  strong,  his  congregation 
was  much  better  prepared  to  see  him  as  Bessie  had  found 
him  three  hours  before  than  as  he  now  appeared. 

There  were  glances  also  for  the  faithful  Rose,  pale  and 
worn,  but  bearing  herself  with  true  Hampstead  dignity; 
for  aggressive,  wizened  Dick,  and  for  Tayna,  emotional 
and  ready,  as  usual,  for  tears  or  laughter.  But  there 
were  more  than  glances  for  the  lady  who  walked  at  the 
pastor's  side  proudly,  with  a  possessive  air  as  if  she  owned 
him  and  were  glad  to  own  him.  There  was  searching 
scrutiny  and  attempt  at  appraisal. 

All  People's  had  never  seen  this  woman  before.  She 
looked  young;  yet  bore  herself  like  a  person  of  conse 
quence.  She  was  beautiful,  but  the  dignity  of  her  beauty 
was  detracted  from  by  dimples.  Yet  with  the  dimples 
went  a  masterful  self-possession  and  a  chin  that  was  a 
trifle  square  and  to-night  just  a  trifle  thrust  out,  while  her 
head  was  a  little  tilted  back  and  her  blue  eyes  were  a  little 
aglint  with  shafts  of  a  light  something  like  defiance,  as  if 
to  say :  "  Hurt  him  at  your  peril.  Take  him  from  me  if 
you  can ! " 

Who  was  she  ?  No  one  knew.  Everybody  asked ;  but 
no  one  answered. 

After  standing  in  the  aisle  before  his  family  pew,  while 
Rose,  Dick,  Tayna,  and  Bessie  filed  in  before  him,  the 
minister  stood  for  a  moment  surveying  the  scene.  As  he 
looked,  the  serenity  upon  his  features  gave  way  to  pain. 
The  situation  saddened  him  inexpressibly.  He  was  like 
a  refugee  who  returns  to  find  his  home  ruined  by  the 
ravages  of  war.  How  peaceful  and  how  helpful  had 
been  the  atmosphere  of  All  People's!  How  happily  he 
had  seen  its  walls  rise  and  its  pews  fill !  How  many  good 
impulses  had  been  started  there!  What  a  pity  that  the 
note  of  inquisition  and  of  persecution  should  now  be 


THE  ELDER  IN  THE  CHAIR  493 

sounded.  How  sad  that  strife  should  come!  And  over 
him  of  all  beings !  He  had  often  looked  upon  a  congrega 
tion  torn  by  dissensions  concerning  its  pastor,  and  he  had 
said  that  no  church  should  ever  undo  itself  over  him. 
When  his  time  came  to  go,  he  would  go  quietly. 

Yet  now  he  was  not  going  quietly,  but  that  was  be 
cause  he  felt  it  was  not  himself  that  was  involved;  in 
stead  it  was  a  principle.  Either  this  congregation  ex 
isted  to  mediate  love,  helpfulness,  and  a  charitable  spirit 
to  the  world,  or  it  had  no  reason  for  existence  at  all.  It 
had  better  be  disrupted,  this  gallery  fall,  this  altar  crum 
ble,  these  walls  collapse,  these  people  be  scattered  to  the 
winds,  than  All  People's  become  a  society  for  the  ad 
vancement  of  pharisaism. 

He  noted  that  the  gallery  was  packed,  but  on  the  main 
floor  empty  spaces  stared  at  him  from  the  central  tier  of 
pews.  Half  of  All  People's  members  must  have  remained 
away.  John  realized  with  new  emotion  what  this  meant : 
that  there  were  men  and  women  in  his  congregation  who 
could  not  see  their  pastor  arraigned  like  this,  who  could 
not  bear  to  witness  the  rising  waves  of  bitterness,  the 
charges  and  the  counter-charges,  the  incriminations,  the 
malicious  spirit  of  partisanship  which  invariably  breaks 
out  in  times  like  these.  But  it  meant  too  that  these  same 
soft-hearted  folk  were  also  soft  in  the  spine;  unwilling 
to  take  a  stand  with  him;  unwilling  to  be  recorded  pro 
or  con  upon  a  great  issue  like  this;  people  for  whom  he 
had  done  a  service  so  great  that  they  could  not  now  turn 
down  their  thumbs  against  him,  yet  lacking  in  the 
strength  of  character  either  to  sit  as  his  judges  or  to  cast 
a  vote  in  his  favor. 

From  this  thought  of  jelly-fish  the  minister  turned,  al 
most  with  relief  to  where,  stretching  widely  behind  the 
Burbeck  pew,  was  a  mass  of  close-packed  faces,  with 
super-heated  resolution  depicted  upon  their  features. 


494  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

The  bearing  of  these  partisans  in  itself  reflected  how  they 
had  been  solicited,  inflamed,  and  organized.  They  were 
there  like  an  army  to  follow  their  leader. 

Good  people,  too,  some  of  them!  Doctor  Hampstead's 
very  best  people.  Yet  to  recognize  them  and  their  mood 
gave  him  a  sense  of  personal  power.  He  believed  that  he 
could  wralk  over  there  and  talk  to  these  people  ten  minutes, 
and  they  would  break  like  sheep  from  the  leadership  of 
Brother  Burbeck.  They  would  come  pressing  around 
him  with  tears  and  expressions  of  confidence.  But  it  was 
not  in  John's  purpose  to  do  that.  He  was  on  trial.  If 
on  the  record  of  his  life  among  them,  these  people  could 
condemn  and  oust  him,  his  work  had  been  a  failure.  It 
was  as  well  to  know  it. 

One  thing  more  the  minister  took  into  account.  The 
number  of  persons  who,  half  in  an  attitude  of  aggressive 
loyalty  and  half  in  tearful  sympathy  had  gathered  in  the 
tiers  behind  his  own  pew  was  less  by  half  than  that 
massed  behind  the  Burbeck  leadership.  The  issue  was 
not  in  doubt.  It  had  been  decided  already, —  in  the  news 
papers,  in  the  court  room,  and  in  all  this  busy  bell-ringing 
of  the  last  two  days. 

And  now,  having  seen  as  much  and  reflected  as  much 
as  has  been  recorded,  Hampstead  sat  down  and  slipped  a 
furtive  lover's  hand  along  the  seat  until  it  found  the  hand 
of  Bessie,  and  took  it  into  his  with  a  gentle  pressure  that 
was  affectionately  reciprocated. 

But  if  to  the  congregation  the  entry  of  the  minister  and 
the  woman  of  mystery  by  his  side  was  sensation  number 
one  in  this  evening  of  sensations,  the  entry  of  the  Angel 
of  the  Chair  was  sensation  number  two.  Mrs.  Burbeck, 
propelled  as  usual  by  Mori,  the  Japanese,  was  just  appear 
ing  at  the  side  door ;  and  this  time  there  was  no  trundling 
to  the  center  between  two  factions.  Instead,  with  Japa 
nese  intentness  of  purpose,  and  as  if  he  had  his  instruc- 


THE  ELDER  IN  THE  CHAIR  495 

tions  beforehand,  Mori  drove  the  chair  straight  across  the 
neutral  ground  to  the  end  of  the  Hampstead  pew. 

The  church,  seeing  this  act,  grasped  instantly  its  solemn 
meaning.  The  house  of  Burbeck  was  divided  against  it 
self.  Mrs.  Burbeck  had  often  disapproved  of  her  hus 
band's  course  in  church  leadership,  but  she  had  never  taken 
sides  against  him.  To-night  she  did  so.  The  issue  was 
too  great,  too  fundamental,  to  do  otherwise.  That  it  hurt 
her  painfully  was  evident.  Her  face  had  lost  its  smile. 
The  pallor  of  her  cheeks  was  more  wax-like  than  ever, 
and  there  was  a  droop  in  the  corners  of  her  mouth  that  no 
physical  suffering  had  effected.  But  the  lips  were  tightly 
compressed,  and  the  valiant  spirit  of  the  woman  looked 
resolutely  out  of  her  eyes.  Those  near  and  watching 
the  face  of  her  husband  saw  that  this  look  affected  him ; 
saw  him  start  as  if  he  had  hardly  expected  such  action, 
hardly  realized  what  it  would  be  to  find  her  thus  opposing 
him.  They  even  noted  that  a  fleeting  expression  of  doubt, 
of  sudden  loss  of  faith  in  his  own  course,  came  into  the 
eyes  of  the  man. 

Nevertheless,  although  with  a  sigh  at  the  burdens  his 
faithfulness  to  the  Lord  so  often  compelled  him  to  bear, 
Elder  Burbeck  set  his  spirit  sternly  upon  its  task.  He  was 
the  Nemesis  of  God.  He  would  not  shrink  though  the 
flame  scorched  him,  the  innocent,  while  it  consumed  the 
guilty. 

Yet  from  the  moment  that  this  glance  had  passed  be 
tween  the  husband  and  the  wife,  it  appeared  that  a  gloom 
of  tragedy  settled  upon  the  gathering.  Again  the  congre 
gation  sank  of  itself  to  awed  silence,  so  intense  that  a 
cough,  the  clearing  of  a  throat,  the  dropping  of  a  hymn- 
book  into  a  rack,  echoed  hollowly.  Slight  movements 
took  on  augmented  significance.  Thoughts  boomed  out 
like  words,  and  looks  had  all  the  force  of  blows. 

The  polity  of  All  People's  was  ultra-congregational. 


496  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

The  proceedings  had  the  form  of  order,  but  were  primi 
tive  and  practical;  yet  every  step,  voice,  motion,  detail, 
took  on  an  exaggerated  sense  of  the  ominous,  as  if  a  man's 
body  were  on  trial  instead  of  merely  his  soul. 

Nor  was  Elder  Burbeck  at  all  approving  of  Hamp- 
stead's  manner  to-night.  The  minister  had  shown  again 
his  utter  incapacity  to  appreciate  a  situation.  He  was  too 
cool,  too  unmoved.  He  had  taken  a  full  minute  to  stand 
there  posing  in  pretended  serenity  while  he  looked  the  con 
gregation  over.  From  Burbeck' s  point  of  view,  this  man 
oeuvre  was  dangerous  tactics.  There  was  always  some 
indefinable  power  in  that  deep-searching  look  of  Hamp- 
stead's.  If  the  man  should  stand  up  there  and  look  at 
these  people  for  ten  minutes  longer,  he  might  have  them 
all  over  there  palavering  about  him.  He  was  looking  in 
the  gallery  now.  Well,  let  him  look  there  as  long  as  he 
liked.  The  gallery  couldn't  vote.  Burbeck's  own  eye 
wandered  into  the  gallery.  On  the  other  side  from  him, 
just  where  the  horseshoe  curve  began  to  draw  in  toward 
the  choir  loft,  sat  his  son,  Rollie. 

"  Rollie  should  not  be  up  there,"  the  Elder  instructed, 
turning  to  an  usher.  "  Go  and  tell  him  to  come  down." 

"  He  says  he  is  with  a  lady  who  is  not  a  member,"  re 
ported  the  usher  on  returning. 

"  Huh?  "  ejaculated  Burbeck,  turning  a  surprised  gaze 
upon  the  figure  of  a  woman  heavily  veiled  who  sat  beside 
his  son. 

That  woman !  What  sacrilege  had  impelled  his  son  to 
bring  her  here?  Had  she  not  wrought  ruin  enough  al 
ready  ?  Must  she  gloat  over  the  shame  she  had  brought 
upon  this  congregation  and  upon  the  church  of  the  living 
God?  And  must  his  son  be  the  means  of  her  coming? 
What  was  that  boy  thinking  of,  anyway? 

And  yet,  since  Rollie  had  grown  into  so  fine  a  figure 
of  a  man,  his  father  had  come  to  regard  his  son  and  what 


THE  ELDER  IN  THE  CHAIR  497 

he  chose  to  do  with  an  indulgence  he  granted  to  no  one 
else.  He  wished  the  boy  would  come  to  church  more ;  he 
wished  he  would  give  more  attention  to  those  things  to 
which  his  father  had  devoted  his  life;  and  yet  he  could 
make  allowance  for  him.  The  young  man's  environment, 
his  social  gifts,  his  business  prospects,  all  inclined  him  to 
another  set  of  associations.  Besides,  the  boy's  own  char 
acter  seemed  so  fine  and  strong,  the  sentiments  of  his 
heart  so  truly  noble,  that  the  father's  iron  judgment 
softened  even  in  the  matter  of  an  indiscretion  so  flagrant 
as  this.  He  reflected  too  that  for  business  reasons  it  was 
doubtless  just  as  well  if  Rollie  were  brought  into  no  promi 
nence  in  this  unpleasant  affair.  In  fact,  Elder  Burbeck 
would  have  been  as  well  satisfied  if  his  son  had  stayed 
away  altogether. 

"  It  is  time  to  call  the  meeting  to  order/'*  suggested 
Elder  Brooks,  a  pale,  nervous  man  whose  eyes  were  con 
tinually  consulting  the  typewritten  sheet  which  he  held  in 
his  hand. 

"  Yes,  Brother  Brooks,"  agreed  Elder  Burbeck,  advanc 
ing  to  the  table  below  and  in  front  of  the  pulpit.  He  was 
almost  directly  in  front  of  where  Doctor  Hampstead  sat  in 
his  pew. 

John  noticed  that  the  Elder  looked  worried  and  over 
anxious.  His  pouchy  cheeks  sagged;  there  were  huge: 
wattles  of  red  skin  beneath  his  chin,  and  his  whole  counte 
nance  had  a  more  than  usually  apoplectic  look. 

"  Brother  Anderson  will  lead  in  prayer,"  announced  the 
Elder  in  unctuous  tones.  "  Let  us  stand,  please !  " 

The  congregation  stood.  But  Brother  Anderson's 
leadership  in  prayer  could  not  be  deemed  very  successful. 
He  led  as  if  he  himself  were  lost.  His  prayer  appeared 
to  partake  of  the  nature  of  an  apology  to  God  for  what 
the  petitioner  hoped  was  about  to  be  done. 

During  the  length  of  these  whining  orisons,  the  congre- 


498  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

gation  grew  impatient.  The  gallery  in  spots  sat  down. 
The  effect  of  the  prayer  was  in  total  no  more  than  a 
dismal  thickening  of  the  gloom  of  tragedy  that  hung 
lower  and  lower  over  the  meeting.  Yet  once  the  prayer 
was  ended,  Elder  Burbeck  baldly  declared  the  object  of 
the  meeting. 

His  manner  was  strained,  his  voice  was  harsh  and  halt 
ing,  but  he  began  stubbornly  and  plodded  forward  dog 
gedly,  gradually  laboring  himself  into  the  hectic  fervor  of 
his  assumed  position  as  the  instrument  of  God  to  purge  All 
People's  of  its  pastor. 

Yet  it  was  in  keeping  with  the  tenseness  of  the  situation 
that  as  the  emotions  of  the  vehement  apostle  of  the  status 
quo  reached  their  height,  his  words  became  rather  less 
florid,  and  he  concluded  in  sentences  of  sycophantic  calm 
and  tones  of  solicitous  consideration  for  the  feelings  of 
the  piece  of  riff-raff  he  was  about  to  brush  aside  with  a 
sweep  of  his  fiery  fan. 

"  There  is  before  us,"  he  assured  his  audience  finally, 
"  no  question  of  the  pastor's  guilt  or  innocence  of  the 
charges  made.  The  question  is  one  of  expediency;  as  to 
what  is  best  to  do  for  the  good  name  and  the  future  use 
fulness  of  All  People's.  The  Board  of  Elders,  after 
serious  and  prayerful  consideration,"  Brother  Burbeck's 
voice  whined  a  little  as  he  said  this,  "  has  felt  that  it  was 
best  for  the  pastor  and  best  for  the  interest  of  the  church 
to  ask  him  to  resign  quietly  and  immediately.  That  re 
quest  has  been  emphatically  declined.  It  has  become  our 
duty,  painful  as  it  is,"  the  Elder  sighed  and  twitched 
his  red  neck  regretfully  in  his  white  collar,  "  to  present 
to  the  congregation  a  resolution  covering  the  situation. 
That  resolution  the  clerk  of  the  church  will  now 
read." 

But  instead  of  looking  at  the  clerk,  the  chairman  looked 
at  Elder  Brooks. 


THE  ELDER  IN  THE  CHAIR  499 

Those  typewritten  lines,  the  mere  holding  of  which  had 
given  Elder  Brooks  that  sense  of  importance  which  it  was 
necessary  for  him  to  feel  in  order  to  be  able  to  act  de 
cisively  in  a  matter  like  this  which  went  gravely  against 
some  of  the  instincts  of  his  soft  nature,  were,  by  him  now, 
with  a  final  and  supreme  sense  of  this  importance,  passed 
to  the  clerk  of  the  church,  a  fat,  ageless,  colorless,  looking 
man  who  read  stolidly  that : 

Whereas,  the  pastor  of  this  congregation,  John 
Hampstead,  has  been  held  to  answer  to  the  Superior 
Court  of  this  County  upon  a  charge  of  burglary  and  has 
been  otherwise  involved  in  public  scandal  in  such  manner 
that  he  appears  either  unable  or  unwilling  to  establish  his 
innocence;  and 

Whereas,  it  is  the  judgment  of  this  Board  that  such  a 
situation  is  one  highly  detrimental  to  the  causes  for  which 
this  church  exists,  and  one  calculated  to  bring  reproach 
upon  the  church  and  the  sacred  cause  of  Christ; 

Therefore,  be  it  resolved  that  the  pastoral  relation  ex 
isting  between  All  People's  Church  and  the  said  John 
Hampstead  be,  and  now  is,  immediately  dissolved. 

"  This,  brethren,"  announced  Elder  Burbeck,  with  an 
air  of  pain  that  was  no  doubt  real,  and  a  fresh  summoning 
of  divine  resolution  to  his  aid,  "  is  the  recommendation  of 
your  official  Board.  What  is  your  pleasure  concerning 
it?" 

"  I  move  its  adoption,"  quavered  Elder  Brooks. 

"  I  second  the  motion,"  Brother  Anderson  suggested 
faintly. 

"Are  you  ready  for  the  question?"  hinted  the  ruling 
Elder. 

But  a  man  stood  up  somewhere  over  behind  Hamp 
stead.  "  I  should  like  to  ask,  Brother  Burbeck,"  he  in 
quired,  "  if  that  was  the  unanimous  resolution  of  the 
Board." 


500  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  It  was  not  unanimous,"  replied  the  Elder,  slightly 
nettled,  "  as  you  know,  Brother  Hinton.  It  is  a  majority 
resolution.  The  question  is  now  upon  its  adoption." 

Elder  Burbeck  swept  a  suggestive  eye  over  his  care 
fully  organized  majority,  and  this  time  his  hint  was  taken. 
Calls  of  "  question  "  arose. 

But  Hinton  remained  uncompromisingly  upon  his  feet. 
He  was  a  tall  man  and  pale,  with  a  high,  bone-like  brow, 
a  long  spiked  chin,  and  gray  moustaches  that  drooped 
placidly  over  a  balanced  mouth. 

"  I  understand  that  the  chair  will  not  attempt  to  railroad 
this  resolution,"  he  ventured  with  mild  sarcasm. 

Elder  Burbeck's  habitual  flush  heightened  as,  after  a 
premonitory  rumble  in  his  throat  and  an  enormous  ef 
fort  at  self-control,  he  replied  emphatically :  "  Brother 
Hinton,  the  resolution  will  not  be  railroaded ; "  and  then 
added  warningly:  "  To  avoid  stirring  up  strife,  how 
ever,  I  hope  we  may  vote  upon  it  with  as  little  discussion 
as  possible." 

"  Yes,"  admitted  Brother  Hinton  dryly,  but  still  stand 
ing  his  ground.  "  I  think  it  is  perfectly  understood  that 
debate  where  its  outcome  is  pre-determined,  is  useless. 
Yet  without  having  consulted  the  pastor  of  this  church  as 
to  my  course,  I  voice  the  sentiment  of  many  around  me  in 
urging  him  to  stand  up  here  as  its  pastor,  as  he  has  a  right 
to  do,  and  as  the  congregation  has  a  right  to  ask  him  to  do, 
and  tell  us  what  he  thinks  should  be  our  course  in  the 
premises." 

Brother  Hinton's  was  a  well  balanced  mind,  and  it 
seemed  for  a  moment  that  his  own  manner  might  inject 
some  coolness  into  the  situation.  Indeed,  the  good  Elder 
Burbeck  trembled  lest  it  might,  for  the  fires  of  purification 
being  up,  he  wished  them  to  burn,  undampened. 

Certainly  for  John  Hampstead  to  stand  up  there  and 
tell  that  congregation  what  to  do  was  the  last  thing  the 


THE  ELDER  IN  THE  CHAIR  501 

Elder  wanted.     Besides,  he  resented  some  of  Brother 
Hinton's  imputations  as  disagreeable. 

The  chairman  answered  curtly : 

"If  the  pastor  did  not  respect  the  eldership  sufficiently 
to  advise  it,  I  think  it  can  hardly  be  expected  of  him  to  ad 
vise  the  congregation ;  or  that  the  congregation  would  take 
his  advice  if  he  gave  it." 

The  face  of  Hampstead  whitened,  and  his  muscles 
strained  in  his  body. 

This  was  really  a  mean  speech  of  Elder  Burbeck,  yet 
he  did  not  wish  to  be  mean.  He  meant  only  to  be  just  — 
to  All  People's  church.  His  zeal  on  the  one  hand,  his 
prejudgment  upon  the  other,  had  led  him  to  consider  no 
procedure  as  proper  that  did  not  look  immediately  to  the 
hurling  down  of  the  usurper. 

"  The  pastor  is  not  at  issue,"  he  concluded  with  heat  al 
most  unholy.  "  It  is  the  good  name  of  All  People's  that  is 
at  issue." 

The  face  of  Hampstead  whitened  a  little  more. 

"  But,"  persisted  Brother  Hinton ;  "  let  our  pastor  make 
his  answer  to  the  charges,  that  we  may  determine  for  our 
selves  what  is  the  issue." 

Enough  had  been  said.  John  Hampstead  stood  tall  and 
statue-like  in  the  aisle,  with  the  manner  of  a  man  about  to 
speak  the  very  soul  out  of  himself,  if  need  be.  Before 
this  manner,  Elder  Burbeck  recoiled  a  little,  as  he  knew  he 
must,  if  this  man  asserted  himself.  For  one  despairing 
moment  the  good  man  felt  that  the  cause  of  righteoxisness 
was  lost.  But  something  in  the  manner  of  the  minister 
himself  reassured  the  Elder.  The  man's  soul  went  back 
a  little  from  his  eyes, —  receded,  as  it  were,  like  a  tider 
while  he  turned  toward  the  congregation  and  in  kindly,  pa 
tient  tones  began : 

"  I  cannot  speak  to  charges,  Brother  Hinton !  None 
are  presented  against  me.  It  was  for  this  reason  that  I  re- 


502  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

fused  to  appear  before  the  eldership.  This  resolution  is 
not  a  charge.  It  is  an  assault.  There  is  no  proposal  on 
the  part  of  this  Board  to  find  out  if  I  am  guilty  of  any 
thing.  They  propose  a  course  which  assumes  my  guilt  to 
be  of  no  importance.  I  tell  you  that  it  is  of  all  impor 
tance. 

"  Perhaps,  brethren,  I  have  been  too  reticent.  Perhaps 
the  peculiar  circumstances  out  of  which  this  congregation 
has  grown  during  the  five  years  of  my  ministry  have  made 
it  difficult  for  all  of  us  to  see  aright  or  to  act  aright  in  this 
trying  situation.  I  stand  before  you  to  some  extent  a 
victim  of  misplaced  confidence  in  you.  I  was  surprised 
that  the  newspapers  should  inflame  public  opinion  against 
me.  I  was  surprised  that  a  Court  of  Justice  should  hold 
me  to  answer  for  this  improbable  crime.  Yet,  during  all 
these,  to  me,  cataclysmic,  happenings  of  the  past  week, 
I  have  looked  to  the  loyalty  of  this  church  with  an  assur 
ance  that  never  wavered;  an  assurance  that  in  the  light  of 
what  is  happening  to-night  seems  more  tragic  than  any 
thing  else.  I  never  had  a  thought  that  you  would  not 
stand  by  me,  at  least  until  I  was  found  to  be  guilty." 

A  note  of  pathos  had  crept  into  the  minister's  voice. 
The  gallery  listened  intent  and  breathless.  Elder  Bur- 
beck  felt  an  irritation  in  his  throat. 

But  the  minister  was  continuing : 

"  Indulging  this  faith  in  you,  entirely  occupied  with  the 
many  perplexing  circumstances  of  this  lamentable  affair,  I 
am  made  now  to  feel  that  I  neglected  you  too  long. 

"  I  perceive  now  that  your  minds,  too,  were  inflamed 
with  suspicion;  that  well-meaning  but  mistaken  zealots 
among  you  have  felt  called  upon  to  take  advantage  of  the 
situation  to  purge  the  church  of  my  presence. 

"  Once  I  saw  this  movement  under  way,  I  felt  too  hurt 
to  oppose  it.  It  seems  to  me  that  it  has  been  done  cun 
ningly  and  calculatingly.  No  charges  have  been  presented 


THE  ELDER  IN  THE  CHAIR  503 

against  me;  therefore  I  cannot  defend  myself;  and  I  will 
not  defend  myself.  I  am  only  analyzing  the  situation  for 
you,  that  what  you  do  may  be  with  open  eyes.  It  is  urged 
that  I  am  not  on  trial ;  therefore  as  a  popular  tribunal,  you 
cannot  go  into  the  details  and  ascertain  the  truth  for  your 
selves. 

"  A  hasty  decision  is  demanded ;  therefore  there  is  no 
time  for  the  situation  to  clear  and  for  calm  counsel  to  pre 
vail.  Bear  in  mind  that  you  are  called  upon  to  take  action 
quickly,  not  for  my  sake  as  a  minister;  not  for  your  sake 
as  individuals ;  but  because  the  good  name  of  this  church  is 
alleged  to  be  suffering.  Is  it  not  in  reality  because  the 
vanity  of  some  of  the  members  of  this  church  is  suffering? 

"If  that  is  so,  it  is  not  a  reason,  my  brethren,  for  hasty 
action  against  any  man.  Surely  it  is  not  a  reason  for 
hasty  action  against  me.  I  ask  those  of  you  who  can  re 
member,  to  go  back,  to  recall  the  circumstances  under 
which  I  became  your  pastor.  You  were  humble  enough 
then.  There  was  small  thought  of  the  good  name  of  this 
congregation  when  I  sat  in  the  park  out  there  and  saw  this 
man  nailing  a  plank  across  the  door.  I  did  not  question 
his  good  intentions  then.  I  do  not  question  them  now. 
But  he  is  proposing  to  do  the  same  thing  in  effect  that  he 
did  then ;  to  nail  God  out  of  His  house. 

"  Oh,  not  because  I  am  nailed  out.  You  may  cast  me 
out,  and  this  church  will  go  on.  But  if  you  cast  out  any 
brother,  even  the  humblest,  wrongfully  or  for  self- 
righteous  reasons,  you  depart  from  the  spirit  of  Christ. 
You  should  be  helping  that  man  instead  of  hurting  him. 
How  much  less  would  you  cast  out  your  pastor  for  the 
same  reason." 

"Brother  Hampstead!"  It  was  the  voice  of  Elder 
Burbeck,  grating  harshly  by  the  forced  element  of  self- 
restraint  in  his  tones.  "  You  are  misapprehending  the 
issue.  There  is  no  proposal  to  cast  you  out  of  the  congre- 


.504  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

.gallon.  The  proposal  is  merely  that  you  retire  from  the 
position  of  eminence  which  you  occupy,  exactly  as  I  might 
be  asked  to  retire  if  my  own  name  had  been  smirched." 

"There  you  are!"  ejaculated  Hampstead.  "  *  Had 
been  smirched.'  Your  chairman's  phraseology  shows  that 
he  assumes  that  my  name  has  been  smirched.  I  deny  it. 
I  indignantly  reject  the  specious  argument  that  the  action 
of  this  church  to-night  does  not  amount  to  a  trial.  Be 
fore  the  eyes  of  the  world  you  are  finding  me  guilty.  You 
place  upon  me  a  stigma  as  a  minister  that  will  follow 
wherever  I  go,  the  inference  of  which  is  unescapable. 
From  the  hour  when  I  became  the  minister  of  this  congre 
gation  until  now,  I  have  gone  about  as  a  servant  of  the 
One  Master,  according  to  my  judgment  and  my  capacity. 
The  point  of  view  of  the  authors  of  this  resolution  seems 
to  be  that  I  have  been  the  servant  of  this  congregation; 
that  I  may  be  hired  or  discharged,  that  I  am  theirs,  that  I 
have  been  working  for  them.  That  was  a  mistake !  It  is 
a  mistake.  I  know  you  have  paid  me  a  salary,  but  I  have 
never  felt  that  it  conferred  upon  me  any  obligation  to  you. 
I  thought  you  gave  the  money  to  God,  and  that  he  gave  it 
to  me,  and  that  with  it  I  was  to  serve  Him  and  not  you. 
That  service  was  rendered  in  all  good  conscience  to  this 
hour.  Are  you  now  presuming  to  oust  me  because  I  can 
no  longer  serve  God  ?  Or  because  you  are  unwilling  for 
me  longer  to  serve  you? 

"  Your  Board  has  asked  me  to  resign.  To  resign 
would  be  a  confession  of  guilt.  I  do  not  feel  guilty.  I 
am  not  guilty.  My  conscience  is  clear.  Personally,  I  was 
never  so  satisfied  that  I  was  doing  right  as  now. 

"  Sometimes  I  must  have  done  the  wrong  thing.  Look 
ing  back,  it  seems  to  me  now  that  sometimes  when  you 
approved  most  heartily,  when  the  public  ovations  were  the 
loudest,  the  thing  achieved  was  either  of  doubtful  worth 
or  very  transitory.  The  present  case  touches  funda- 


THE  ELDER  IN  THE  CHAIR  505 

mental  issues.     It  has  to  do  with  one  of  the  most  sacred 
duties  of  the  minister. 

"  The  resolution  to  which  I  am  entitled  from  this  con 
gregation  is  a  resolution  of  absolute  confidence.  There  is 
but  one  other  resolution  that  could  adequately  express  the 
situation,  and  that  is  the  one  which  is  proposed  by  the 
Board.  If  you  cannot  pass  the  resolution  of  confidence, 
I  think  that  you  should  pass  the  one  that  has  been  pro 
posed.  That  is  the  advice  which  I  have  to  offer.  That  is 
the  answer  which  I  make  to  this  unjust,  this  unchristian 
assault  upon  your  pastor  in  the  moment  when,  tried  as  he 
has  never  been  tried  before,  he  needs  your  loyalty  and  con 
fidence  more  than  he  can  ever  need  it  again." 

Hampstead  sat  down.  He  had  spoken  with  far  more 
feeling  than  he  had  intended,  but  he  had  exhibited  much 
less  than  he  experienced. 

Yet  the  total  effect  of  his  words  was  less  happy  than 
his  friends  had  hoped.  Instead  of  appealing  to  his  audi 
tors,  he  appeared  to  arraign  them.  Elder  Burbeck  was 
greatly  relieved.  He  saw  that  this  arraignment  had  an 
tagonized  and  solidified  his  own  cohorts. 

But  the  tall  man  with  the  lofty  brow  was  on  his  feet 
again. 

"  I  wish  to  move,"  said  Brother  Hinton,  "  a  resolution 
such  as  Doctor  Hampstead  has  suggested;  a  resolution  of 
sympathy  and  absolute  confidence,  and  I  now  do  move  that 
this  church  put  itself  upon  record  as  sympathizing  fully 
with  our  pastor  in  his  unpleasant  position,  and  assuring 
him  of  our  confidence  in  the  unswerving  integrity  of  his 
character  and  of  our  prayers  that  he  may  be  true  to  his 
duty  as  he  sees  it.  I  offer  that  as  a  substitute  for  the  reso 
lution  before  the  house." 

The  resolution  was  seconded.  There  was  an  interval 
of  silence,  a  feeling  that  the  crucial  moment  had  been 
reached.  Question  was  called.  The  substitute  was  put. 


506  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  All  in  favor  of  this  resolution  which  you  have  heard 
made  and  with  the  formal  reading  of  which  we  will  dis 
pense,  please  stand,"  proclaimed  Elder  Burbeck. 

There  was  an  uncertain  movement.  By  ones  and  twos, 
and  then  in  groups  the  persons  sitting  on  the  Hampstead 
side  of  the  church  rose  to  their  feet,  until  with  few  excep 
tions  all  were  standing. 

"  The  clerk  will  count." 

There  was  an  awkward  silence. 

"  One  hundred  and  sixty-three,"  the  colorless  man  an 
nounced  presently. 

"  All  opposed,  same  sign."  Burbeck's  adherents  arose 
en  masse  at  the  motion  of  the  Elder's  arm,  which  was  as 
involuntary  as  it  was  in  judicial. 

The  clerk  did  not  count.  It  was  unnecessary.  "  The 
motion  is  lost,"  he  said  to  the  presiding  officer. 

"The  resolution  is  lost,"  announced  Elder  Burbeck 
loudly,  in  tones  that  quickened  with  eagerness.  "  The 
question  now  recurs  upon  the  original  resolution." 

Erect,  poised,  feeling  a  sense  of  elation  that  he  was 
now  to  let  loose  the  wrath  of  God  upon  a  recreant  shep 
herd  of  the  flock,  the  Elder  stood  for  a  moment  with  his 
eyes  sweeping  over  the  whole  congregation,  and  taking 
in  every  detail  of  the  picture;  the  disheartened,  defeated 
group  behind  Hampstead,  the  flushed,  determined  face  of 
the  minister,  the  defiant  blaze  in  the  eyes  of  the  rosy- faced 
young  person  by  his  side, —  who  was  this  strange  woman, 
anyway  ?  —  and  then  his  own  well-marshalled  loyal  forces, 
who  to-night  played  the  part  of  the  avenging  hosts  of 
Jehovah ! 

Up  even  into  the  gallery  the  Elder's  eyes  wandered 
with  satisfaction.  These  galleries  should  see  that  All 
People's  would  not  suffer  itself  to  be  put  to  shame  before 
the  world.  Something  centered  his  eye  for  a  moment 
upon  Rollie.  His  son  was  gazing  intently,  leaning  for- 


THE  ELDER  IN  THE  CHAIR  507 

ward  with  a  hand  reached  out  until  it  rested  on  the  balcony 
rail.  Then  the  Elder's  eye  returned  to  the  lower  floor  and 
to  the  mission  now  about  to  be  accomplished. 

"  Are  you  ready  for  the  question?  "  he  inquired,  with 
forced  deliberation,  enjoying  the  suspense  before  its  inevi 
table  outcome  of  satisfied  justice. 

"  Question !     Question !  "  came  the  insistent  calls. 

But  now  there  was  something  like  a  movement  in  the 
gallery.  The  old  Elder's  eye,  noting  everything,  noted 
that;  looking  up,  he  saw  that  Rollie's  seat  was  empty; 
but  higher  up  the  gallery  aisle  the  young  man  was  visible, 
making  his  way  quickly  toward  the  stairs.  That  was 
right,  he  was  coming  down  to  vote ;  but  he  would  be  too 
late. 

"  All  in  favor  of  the  resolution  severing  the  pastoral 
relation  between  All  People's  Church  and  John  Hamp- 
stead  will  signify  by  standing." 

The  Elder  rolled  the  words  out  sonorously.  In  his 
mind  they  stood  for  the  thunder  of  divine  judgment! 

The  solid  phalanxes  upon  his  left  arose  as  one  man  and 
stood  while  their  impressive  numbers  were  this  time  care 
fully  counted  by  the  clerk.  The  tally  took  some  time. 

"  Opposed,  the  same  sign !  "  The  Elder  barked  out  the 
words  like  a  challenge.  Again  the  straggling  group  be 
hind  Hampstead  arose.  The  minister  himself  stood  up. 
As  a  member  of  the  congregation,  he  had  a  right  to  vote, 
and  he  would  protest  to  the  last  this  injustice  to  him,  this 
slander  of  All  People's  upon  itself. 

Mrs.  Burbeck  could  not  stand,  but  raised  her  hand,  so 
thin  and  shell-like  that  it  trembled  while  she  held  the  white 
palm  up  to  view. 

Elder  Burbeck  saw  this  and  noted  with  a  slight  addi 
tional  sense  of  shock  that  Rollie  was  now  beside  his  mother 
and  standing  also  to  be  counted  with  the  Hampstead  ad 
herents. 


508  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

"  The  resolution  is  carried,"  said  the  clerk  to  the  Elder. 

"  The  resolution  — "  echoed  Burbeck,  his  voice  begin 
ning  to  gather  enormous  volume.  But  when  he  had  got 
this  far,  his  utterance  was  arrested  by  the  sudden  action 
of  his  son,  who  remained  standing  in  the  aisle,  with  one 
hand  grasping  his  mother's,  and  the  other  outstretched  in 
some  sort  of  appeal  to  him. 

"  Father !  "  the  boy  whispered  hoarsely ;  "  don't  an 
nounce  that  vote !  Don't  announce  it !  " 

This  startling  interruption  appeared  to  freeze  the  whole 
scene  fast.  The  throaty,  excited  tones  of  the  young  man 
floated  to  the  far  corners  of  the  auditorium,  and  again  the 
sense  of  some  impending  terror  forced  itself  deeper  into 
the  crowd-consciousness. 

"Don't  announce  it?  What  do  you  mean?"  ejacu 
lated  the  father  in  an  irritated  and  widely  audible  whis 
per. 

The  suddenness  of  this  outbreak  and  the  astounding 
fact  that  it  should  come  from  his  own  flesh,  had  thrown 
the  Elder  completely  off  his  stride. 

"  Because,"  the  young  man  faltered,  his  face  white,  his 
eyes  wild  and  staring,  "  because  it's  wrong!  " 

The  huge  dominating  figure  of  a  man  stood  for  a  mo 
ment  nonplussed,  wondering  what  hysteria  could  have 
overtaken  his  son ;  but  annoyance  and  stubborn  determina 
tion  to  proceed  quickly  manifested  themselves  upon  his 
face. 

"  Don't,  father !  "  pleaded  the  young  man,  advancing 
down  the  aisle,  "  Don't !  I've  got  something  I  must 
say!" 

By  this  time,  Hampstead,  quickly  apprehensive,  had 
stepped  out  from  his  pew  and  was  seeking  to  grasp  Rollie's 
arm ;  but  the  excited  young  man  avoided  him,  and  stand 
ing  with  one  hand  still  appealing  toward  his  father,  and 
with  the  other  pointing  backward  toward  the  minister,  he 


"  That  man  is  innocent."     Page  509. 


THE  ELDER  IN  THE  CHAIR  509 

announced  with  a  sudden  access  of  vocal  force :  "  That 
man  is  innocent." 

The  words  had  a  triumphant  ring  in  them  that  echoed 
through  the  auditorium. 

"Innocent?" 

The  tone  of  the  senior  Burbeck  was  scornful  in  the  ex 
treme.  Increasing  anger  at  being  thus  interfered  with, 
especially  by  Rollie  had  turned  the  Elder's  face  almost 
purple.  "  Young  man,"  he  commanded  harshly,  "  you 
stand  aside  and  let  this  church  declare  its  will." 

"  I  will  not  stand  aside,"  protested  the  son.  "  I  will 
not  let  you,  my  father,  do  this  great  wrong.  He  for 
bade  me  to  speak ;  but  I  will  speak.  Yes,  no  matter  what 
happens,  I  must  speak." 

The  young  man  turned  a  frightened  glance  upon  his 
mother.  Mrs.  Burbeck  was  gazing  intently  at  her  son,  a 
look  of  shock  giving  way  to  one  of  comprehension  and 
then  a  pitiful  half-smile  of  encouragement,  as  if  she  urged 
him  to  go  on  and  do  his  duty,  whatever  that  involved. 

"  That  man,"  Rollie  began  afresh,  his  neck  thrust  for 
ward  desperately,  while  he  pointed  to  the  minister,  who 
had  stepped  back  once  more  as  though  he  felt  the  purposes 
of  God  in  operation  and  no  longer  dared  to  interfere; 
"  that  man  is  innocent.  I  am  the  thief.  I  stole  the  dia 
monds.  I  did  it  to  get  the  money  to  cover  a  defalcation  at 
the  bank.  Fearful  of  the  consequences,  I  turned  to  him  in 
my  distress.  He  got  the  money  to  restore  what  I  had 
stolen.  I  put  the  diamonds  in  his  box  for  an  hour,  and  by 
a  mistake  he  went  off  with  the  key.  That  explains  all. 
When  I  returned  from  the  cruise  on  the  Bay  and  learned 
what  had  happened,  I  was  paralyzed  with  fear.  At  first  I 
did  not  even  have  the  manhood  to  go  and  tell  him  how  the 
diamonds  got  into  his  box.  When  I  did,  he  made  me  keep 
the  silence  for  fear  the  blow  would  kill  my  mother.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  this  was  not  a  sufficient  reason.  But 


510  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

I  was  weak;  I  was  a  coward.  Yet  the  spectacle  of  seeing- 
this  man  stand  here  day  after  day  while  his  reputation  was 
torn  to  pieces,  unwavering  and  unyielding  whether  for  the 
sake  of  my  mother  or  such  a  worthless  wretch  as  I  am,  or 
for  the  sake  of  his  priestly  vow,  made  me  stronger  and 
stronger.  Yet  I  was  not  strong  enough  to  speak.  Not 
until  to-night.  Not  until  I  saw  my  mother's  hand  tremble 
when  she  held  it  up  to  vote  for  him.  I  only  came  down 
here  to  stand  beside  her.  But  one  touch  of  hers  compelled 
me  to  speak.  I  am  prepared  to  assume  my  guilt  before 
this  church  and  before  the  world.  I  was  a  defaulter,  and 
John  Hampstead  saved  me.  I  was  a  thief,  and  he  saved 
me.  I  was  a  coward,  and  he  made  me  brave  enough  at 
least  for  this.  I  tell  you,  the  man  is  innocent,  absolutely 
innocent.  He  is  so  good  that  you  should  fall  down  and 
worship  him." 

Rollie's  confession  in  detail  was  addressed  to  the  con 
gregation  as  a  whole,  and  he  finished  with  his  arms  ex 
tended  and  chest  thrown  forward  like  a  man  who  had 
bared  his  soul. 

After  standing  for  a  moment  motionless,  his  eyes 
turned  to  his  mother,  and  with  a  low  cry  he  dashed  to 
where  Hampstead  was  bending  over  her.  She  lay  chalk- 
white  and  motionless,  one  hand  in  her  lap,  the  other  swing 
ing  pendant,  the  hand  that  had  just  been  raised  to  vote. 
The  eyes  were  closed ;  the  lips  half  parted ;  the  expression 
of  her  face,  if  expression  it  might  be  termed,  one  of  utter 
exhaustion  of  vital  forces. 

For  a  moment  the  young  man  stood  transfixed  by  the 
spectacle  of  what  he  had  done.  How  shadow  thin  she 
looked !  This  was  not  the  figure  of  a  woman,  but  some 
exquisite  pattern  of  the  spiritual  draped  limply  in  this 
chair. 

And  yet,  as  if  affected  by  his  appealing  gaze,  the  fea 
tures  moved,  some  of  the  looseness  departed  from  the 


THE  ELDER  IN  THE  CHAIR  511 

Corners  of  the  mouth,  the  eye-lashes  fluttered  and  a  deli 
cate  tint  showed  upon  the  cheek,  disappeared,  came  again, 
and  went  away  again ;  but  with  each  appearance  lingered 
longer.  The  lips  moved  too  as  if  a  breath  were  passing 
through  them ;  almost  indistinguishably  and  yet  surely,  the 
bosom  of  her  dress  stirred,  collapsed,  and  stirred  again. 
The  young  man  had  rather  unconsciously  seized  both 
wilted  hands,  forcing  the  minister  somewhat  away  in  or 
der  to  do  so.  It  was  his  mother.  He  had  struck  her  de 
fenseless  head  this  blow.  Unmindful  of  the  sudden  awe 
of  silence  about  him,  followed  by  murmurings,  ejacula 
tions,  and  then  a  universal  stir  of  feet,  the  blank  looks, 
the  questionings,  the  staring  wonder  with  which  neighbor 
looked  to  neighbor,  the  young  man  watched  intently  that 
stirring  of  the  mother  breast  until  it  became  regular  and 
rhythmical. 

The  lips  were  moving  now  again ;  but  this  time  as  if  in 
the  formation  of  words.  Rollie  bent  low,  until  his  ear 
was  close. 

"  Let  me  think,  let  me  think,"  the  lips  murmured 
wearily.  "  My  son  —  was  a  defaulter  and  a  thief  —  John 
Hampstead  knew.  John  Hampstead  showed  him  the  bet 
ter  way."  She  turned  her  head  weakly  and  eased  her 
body  in  the  chair,  as  if  to  make  even  this  slight  effort  at 
conversation  less  laborious,  and  then  began  to  speak  once 
more: 

"  But  he  was  not  strong  enough  to  walk  that  better  way, 
so  John  Hampstead  took  the  burden  upon  his  own  shoul 
ders  and  carried  it  until  my  boy  was  strong  enough  to  bear 
it  for  himself." 

Sufficient  strength  had  returned  for  one  of  her  hands  to 
exert  a  pressure  on  the  hand  that  held  it. 

"  Yes,  mother,"  Rollie  breathed  fervently  into  her  ear. 

"  But  now,"  and  the  voice  gained  more  volume,  "  but 
now  he  is  strong  enough.  He  has  done  a  brave  and  noble 


HELD  TO  ANSWER 

thing  at  last.     I  forget  my  shame  in  pride  and  gratitude  to 
God  for  my  son  that  was  lost  and  is  alive  again  —  forever 


more." 


The  last  tone  flowed  out  upon  the  current  of  a  long, 
wavering  sigh,  which  seemed  to  take  the  final  breath  from 
her  body. 

"  Yes,  mother !  "  the  young  man  urged  anxiously,  put 
ting  an  instinctive  pressure  upon  the  hands  he  held,  as  if  to 
call  the  spirit  back  into  her  again.  There  was  an  instant 
in  which  he  felt  that  it  was  gone.  She  had  left  him.  But 
the  next  instant  he  felt  it  coming  back  again  like  a  tide 
and  stronger,  much  stronger,  so  that  there  was  real  color 
in  her  cheeks,  and  then  the  eyes  opened  and  looked  at  him 
with  a  clear  and  steady  light,  with  the  glow  of  love  and 
admiration  in  them. 

"Thank  God!"  murmured  the  voice  of  Hampstead 
hoarsely.  "  She  is  back.  She  will  stay." 

"  Yes,"  Mrs.  Burbeck  affirmed,  faintly  but  valiantly, 
turning  from  the  face  of  her  son  to  that  of  the  minister 
with  a  look  of  inexpressible  gratitude  and  devotion. 
"  Yes,  I  am  back,"  she  smiled  reassuringly,  "  and  to  stay. 
I  never  had  so  much  reason  —  so  much  to  live  for  as 
now." 

The  enactment  of  this  scene  at  the  chair,  so  intense  and 
so  significant,  could  have  consumed  no  more  than  two 
minutes  of  time.  The  congregation,  keenly  alive  to  the 
effect  the  disclosure  must  have  upon  the  life  of  the  mother, 
was  in  a  state  to  witness  with  the  most  perfect  understand 
ing  every  detail  of  the  action  about  the  invalid's  chair. 
While  the  issue  was  in  doubt,  the  audience  remained  in  an 
agony  of  suspense  and  apprehension. 

With  the  sudden  look  of  relief  upon  the  face  of  the 
minister,  followed  presently  by  a  luminous  smile  of  pure 
joy  while  his  shoulders  straightened  to  indicate  the  rolling 
off  of  the  burden  of  his  fears,  the  suspense  for  the  congre- 


THE  ELDER  IN  THE  CHAIR  513 

gation  was  completely  ended.  Reactions  began  immedi 
ately  to  occur. 

Far  up  in  the  gallery  a  woman  laughed,  an  excited,  hys 
terical,  brainless  laugh,  and  every  eye  darted  upon  her  in 
reproach.  Then  down  in  front  somewhere  near  the  first 
line  of  the  Burbeck  adherents,  a  man  began  to  sob, 
hoarsely  and  with  a  wailing  note,  as  if  in  utter  despair. 
Again  every  eye  swung  from  the  woman  who  had  laughed 
to  the  man  who  was  crying.  As  they  fell  on  him,  he  stood 
up.  It  was  Elder  Brooks,  the  man  who  had  written  the 
resolution  declaring  the  pastoral  relation  severed.  With 
streaming  eyes  he  was  hurrying  toward  Hampstead.  But 
now  other  women  were  laughing  hysterically,  other  men 
were  sobbing.  Everywhere  was  exclamation,  movement, 
and  a  sudden  impulse  toward  the  minister.  The  people  in 
the  gallery  came  down,  crowding  dangerously,  to  the  rail. 
On  the  main  floor  little  rivulets  of  excited  human  beings 
trickled  out  from  the  pews  and  streamed  down  the  aisles. 
The  first  to  reach  Hampstead  was  a  woman.  She  caught 
his  hand  and  kissed  it.  Elder  Brooks  came  next.  He 
flung  an  arm  about  the  minister's  neck,  but  instead  of  look 
ing  at  him  or  addressing  him,  covered  his  face  in  shame. 

But  it  was  no  longer  possible  to  describe  what  any  one 
individual  was  doing.  The  entire  audience  had  become  a 
sea  which  at  first  rolled  toward  Hampstead  and  then 
swirled  and  tossed  its  individual  waves  laughing,  cheer 
ing  or  applauding  frothily.  In  mutual  congratulation 
men  shook  each  other's  hands  and  some  appeared  even 
to  shake  their  own  hands.  Women  kissed  or  flung  their 
arms  about  one  another.  Two  thirds  of  the  main  floor 
was  devoid  entirely  of  people.  The  other  third  was  a 
struggling  eddy  in  which  the  tall  form  of  the  ex-pastor, — 
for  they  had  just  voted  him  out  of  the  pulpit, —  stood  re 
ceiving  every  one  who  reached  him  with  a  sad  kind  of 
graciousness. 


5H  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

Songs  broke  out.  For  a  time  the  people  in  the  gallery 
were  singing:  "  Blessed  be  the  tie  that  binds."  Those 
below  sobbed  through  "  My  faith  looks  up  to  Thee  ",  and 
presently  all  were  singing  "  Nearer  my  God  to  Thee, 
nearer  to  Thee."  This  continued  until  the  gathering 
seemed  to  sing  itself  somewhat  out  of  its  hysteria;  and 
then,  weaving  to  and  fro,  the  tide  began  to  ebb  back  up  the 
aisles  and  into  the  pews  again. 

At  first  the  people  thought  they  had  done  this  of  their 
own  accord,  but  later  it  appeared  that  it  was  Hampstead 
who  was  making  them  do  it.  He  was  a  leader.  In  the 
temporary  chaos,  his  will  alone  retained  its  poise,  and  it 
was  the  suggestion  in  the  glance  of  his  eye  and  finally  in 
the  gestures  of  his  hands  that  sent  them  back  to  their 
seats. 

When  the  singing  stopped,  and  the  audience  sat  some 
what  composed  and  considering  what  should  happen  next, 
the  minister  remained  master  of  the  situation. 

To  protect  himself  somewhat  from  the  surging  waves  of 
humanity,  Hampstead  had  stepped  upon  the  platform. 
He  stood  now  with  one  hand  resting  easily  upon  the  back 
of  the  chair  beside  the  communion  table.  The  chair  was 
not  empty,  for  it  contained  the  huge,  collapsed  bulk  of  the 
Elder,  the  upper  half  of  whose  body  had  sunk  sideways 
upon  the  end  of  the  table,  with  his  huge  red  face  fenced  off 
from  view  by  one  arm,  as  if  to  shroud  the  shame  of  his 
features.  He  was  inert  and  still.  The  fragile  human 
orchid  in  the  chair  had  not  been  more  motionless  than  he. 
The  tip  of  an  ear,  one  bald  knob  of  his  head,  were  all  that 
showed  to  those  in  front ;  and  the  other  arm  was  extended 
across  the  table,  the  fingers  overhanging  the  edge  of  it. 

The  spectacle  of  the  man  lying  crushed  and  broken  upon 
the  very  table  from  which  so  often  he  had  administered 
the  communion,  cast  a  deepening  spell  over  all.  But  it 
also  forced  on  all  a  thought  of  sympathy  for  this  rashly 


THE  ELDER  IN  THE  CHAIR  515 

misguided  man,  who  as  a  spiritual  leader  of  this  church 
had  shown  himself  so  utterly  lacking  in  spiritual  discern 
ment.  This  was  quite  in  keeping  with  John  Hampstead's 
mood. 

"  Our  very  first  emotion,"  the  minister  began,  "  must 
be  one  of  sympathy  for  this  well-meaning  brother  of  ours 
who  has  been  the  unfortunate  victim  of  a  series  of  mis 
takes  in  which  his  has  been  by  no  means  the  greatest. 
While  he  sits  before  us  overcome  with  humiliation  and  re 
morse,  Elder  Burbeck  will  pardon  me  if  I  speak  for  a  mo 
ment  as  if  he  were  not  here.  I  wish  to  urge  upon  you  all 
that  no  one  —  least  of  all  myself  —  should  reproach  him 
for  the  thing  which  he  has  done.  I  have  never  doubted 
that  he  was  acting  in  all  good  conscience.  The  succession 
of  events,  once  it  had  begun  to  march,  has  been  so  remark 
able  that  now,  looking  back,  we  must  each  and  all  of  us 
feel  how  puny  are  men  and  women  to  resist  the  winds  of 
circumstance  which  blow  upon  them. 

"  To  me,  granting  the  beginning  of  this  strange  series 
of  events  for  which  I  am  at  least  in  part  to  blame,  it  seems 
now  that  all  the  rest  has  been  inevitable.  I  think  we 
should  reproach  no  one.  Certainly  I  shall  not.  Instead, 
I  am  thinking  that  it  is  a  time  for  great  rejoicing.  That 
mother  who  has  so  many  times  shown  us  the  better  way, 
has  shown  it  to-night.  Looking  up  to  her  son  whose  act 
of  moral  courage,  witnessing  to  the  new  character  that  he 
has  been  building,  has  made  possible  the  happy  climax  of 
this  tragic  hour  —  looking  up  to  him  she  has  said  :  '  I 
never  had  so  much  to  live  for  as  now/  That  should  be 
the  feeling  of  each  one  of  us. 

"  The  events  of  to-night  must  have  been  graven  deeply 
into  all  our  hearts.  None  of  us  can  ever  be  quite  the 
same.  Each  must  start  afresh,  with  our  lives  enriched  by 
the  lesson  and  by  the  experiences  of  this  hour. 

"  It  has  brought  to  me  the  keenest  suffering,  the  bit- 


5i6  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

terest  disappointment,  that  I  have  ever  known.  It  has 
brought  to  me  also  a  deepening  faith  in  the  marvelous 
power  of  God  to  overrule  the  most  untoward  incidents  to 
His  glory.  It  has  brought  to  me  also  the  greatest  gift  that 
any  man  can  have  upon  the  side  of  his  earthly  relations, — 
a  joy  so  great,  so  supreme,  so  ineffable  that  I  cannot  speak 
farther  than  to  say  to  you  that  it  is  mine  to-night ;  and  that 
you  look  into  my  eyes  at  the  happiest  moment  I  have  ever 
known." 

There  was  a  movement  in  the  gallery.  A  tall  woman, 
heavily  veiled,  with  an  air  of  unmistakable  distinction 
about  her,  arose  and  mounted  the  aisle  step  by  step  to  the 
stairway  leading  downward. 

Desiring  with  all  the  violent  impetuosity  of  her  nature 
to  break  out  with  the  truth  that  would  vindicate  the  man 
she  loved  so  hopelessly  and  had  involved  so  terribly, 
Marien  had  nevertheless  been  true  to  her  vow  of  silence. 
But  she  had  brought  Rollie  Burbeck  to  this  meeting,  and 
she  had  kept  him  there.  At  the  critical  moment  she  had 
sent  him  down  to  stand  beside  his  mother,  until  the  young 
man's  clay-like  soul  at  last  had  fluxed  and  fused  into  the 
moulding  of  a  man.  Having  seen  the  mischief  she  had 
wrought  undone,  so  far  as  anything  done  ever  is  undone, 
she  was  leaving  now,  when  the  minister  had  begun  to 
speak  of  what  she  could  not  bear  to  hear. 

Hampstead's  gaze  watched  the  receding  figure,  and  a 
poignant  regret  for  her  smote  in  upon  him  in  the  midst  of 
all  his  joy. 

Desperately,  with  that  enormous  resolution  of  which 
she  was  capable,  Marien  Dounay  was  stepping  undemon- 
stratively  out  of  his  life.  But  as  she  went,  he  knew  that 
the  verdict  pronounced  upon  him  by  the  court  was  one 
now  pronounced  upon  her.  All  through  life  she  would  be 
held  to  answer  for  the  love  she  had  slain  for  the  sake  of 
her  ambition. 


THE  ELDER  IN  THE  CHAIR  517 

Of  those  who  followed  the  eye  of  the  minister  as  it 
marked  the  departure  of  the  woman  from  the  gallery, 
some,  of  course,  recognized  her,  and  for  a  moment  they 
may  have  been  puzzled  over  the  mystery  of  the  part  she 
had  played  in  that  moving  drama,  the  last  act  of  which 
was  now  drawing  to  its  end  before  them ;  but  the  minister 
was  speaking  again : 

"  It  seems  to  me  best  for  us  all,"  he  was  saying,  "  to 
disperse  quietly,  to  go  each  to  his  or  her  own  home,  to  our 
own  families,  into  the  deeper  recesses  of  our  own  hearts, 
to  ponder  that  through  which  we  have  passed  and  plan  for 
each  the  future  duty. 

"  Upon  one  point  I  am  inclined  to  break  into  homily. 
The  great  lesson  which  I  myself  have  learned  can  be  best 
expressed  in  the  verdict  of  the  court  at  my  preliminary 
hearing :  '  Held  to  Answer.'  It  seems  to  me  there  is  a 
great  philosophy  of  life  in  that.  In  the  crowding  events 
of  the  week  past,  I  have  been  *  Held  to  Answer  '  for  many 
mistakes  of  mine.  Some  of  you  must  find  yourselves  held 
to  answer  now  for  the  manner  in  which  you  have  borne 
yourselves.  Our  young  brother,  Rollie  Burbeck,  for 
whom  we  feel  so  deeply  and  whose  courage  to-night  we 
have  so  greatly  admired,  will  be  held  to  answer  to-morrow 
before  his  associates  and  the  world  for  his  past  mistakes 
and  for  his  proposals  for  the  future.  But  we  shall  be  held 
to  answer  also  for  our  blessings  and  our  opportunities.  A 
great  joy  has  come  to  me.  The  woman  I  have  loved  de 
votedly,  but  perhaps  undeservingly,  for  years,  has  come 
thundering  half  way  across  the  continent  to  stand  beside 
me  here  to-night.  She  brings  me  great  happiness,  an  in 
creasing  opportunity  to  do  good.  For  that  also  I  shall  be 
held  to  answer,  since  joys  are  not  given  to  us  for  selfish 
use,  but  that  we  may  enlarge  and  give  them  back  again. 

"  And  now,  though  I  am  no  longer  your  pastor,  you 
will  permit  me,  I  am  sure,  to  lift  my  hand  above  you  for 


518  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

i 

this  last  time  and  invoke  the  benediction  of  God  which  is 
eternal  upon  the  life  of  every  man  and  woman  here  to 
night." 

"  But,"  faltered  Elder  Brooks,  starting  up,  his  voice 
trembling,  "  that  was  our  great  mistake,  our  great  sin. 
You  are  to  be  our  pastor  again !  " 

The  minister  shook  his  head  slowly  and  decisively. 
The  Elder  stared  in  dumb,  helpless  amazement,  while  a 
murmur  of  dissent  rose  from  the  congregation,  but 
quieted  before  the  upraised  hand  of  the  minister. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Hampstead,  speaking  in  tones 
of  deep  conviction  and  yet  with  humility,  "  that  God  has 
declared  the  pulpit  of  All  People's  vacant;  that  both  you 
and  I  are  to  be  held  to  answer  for  our  mutual  failure  by  a 
stern  decree  of  separation.  For  there  is  another  lesson 
which  has  been  graven  deeply  in  my  life.  It  is  this :  No 
man  can  go  back.  No  life  ever  flows  up  stream.  The 
tomb  of  yesterday  is  sealed.  The  decision  of  this  congre 
gation  is  irrevocable.  Less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  has 
passed ;  but  you  are  not  the  same,  and  I  am  not  the  same." 

In  the  minister's  solemn  utterance,  the  message  of  the 
inevitable  consequence  of  what  had  happened  was  carried 
into  every  consciousness.  There  was  no  longer  any  pro 
test.  The  congregation  bowed,  mutely  submissive,  while 
John  Hampstead  pronounced  the  benediction  of  St.  Jude : 

"  Now  unto  him  that  is  able  to  guard  you  from  stum 
bling,  and  to  set  you  before  the  presence  of  his  glory  with 
out  blemish  in  exceeding  joy,  to  the  only  God  our  Saviour, 
through  Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord,  be  glory,  majesty,  domin 
ion  and  power  before  all  time,  and  now,  and  forever  more. 
Amen." 

The  meeting  was  over.  But  the  audience  sat  uncer 
tainly  in  the  pews,  with  expectant  glances  at  Elder  Bur- 
beck.  It  seemed  as  if  he  should  rouse  and  say  something. 
John,  in  recognition  of  the  naturalness  of  this  impulse, 


THE  ELDER  IN  THE  CHAIR  519 

turned  and  laid  his  hand  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  man. 

"  My  brother,"  he  began,  and  applied  a  gentle  pressure. 
But  something  in  the  unyielding  bulk  of  the  man  made 
him  stop  with  a  puzzled  look,  after  which  he  turned  and 
glanced  toward  Mrs.  Burbeck.  Already  Rollie  was  push 
ing  her  chair  forward,  her  face  expressing  both  anxiety 
and  love.  She  had  been  eager  to  go  to  her  husband  be 
fore,  but  consideration  for  his  own  pride,  which  would  re 
sent  a  demonstration,  had  withheld  her.  She  touched 
first  the  outstretched  drooping  ringer. 

"  Hiram!  "  she  breathed  softly,  coaxingly,  "  Hiram!  " 

Receiving  no  response,  Mrs.  Burbeck  drew  the  obscur 
ing  hand  gently  from  before  the  face.  Her  own  features 
were  a  study.  It  was  curious  of  Hiram  to  act  this  way. 
He  was  a  man  of  stern  purpose.  Having  been  over 
whelmingly  shamed  by  his  error,  it  would  have  been  like 
him  to  stand  bravely  and  confess  his  wrong.  But  his 
parted  lips  had  no  purpose  in  their  form  at  all.  The  red 
ness  of  his  skin  had  changed  to  a  purple.  She  laid  her 
ringers  on  his  cheek  and  held  them  there,  for  a  moment, 
curiously  and  apprehensively.  Then  a  startled  expression 
crossed  her  face,  and  a  little  exclamation  broke  from  her 
lips.  Instead  of  leaning  forward,  she  drew  back  and 
lifted  her  eyes  helplessly  to  the  minister. 

Hampstead  met  her  questioning,  pitiful  glance  with  a 
sad  shake  of  the  head  and  affirmation  in  his  own  tear- 
filling  eyes.  He  had  sensed  the  solemn  truth  from  the 
moment  of  that  first  touch  upon  the  huge,  unresponsive 
shoulder. 

For  an  appreciable  interval  the  face  of  the  woman  was 
white  and  set  and  unbelieving,  and  then  she  folded  her 
hands  and  bowed  her  head  in  mute  acknowledgment  of  the 
widowhood  which  had  come  upon  her. 

With  the  audience  aghast  and  breathless  in  sympathetic 
understanding,  Hampstead  looked  down  upon  the  silent 


520  HELD  TO  ANSWER 

figures  where  they  posed  like  a  sculptured  group,  the  upper 
bulk  of  the  man  unmoving  upon  the  table,  the  woman  un- 
moving  in  the  chair,  and  behind  the  chair,  the  son,  also 
bowed  and  motionless. 

Hiram  Burbeck  was  dead.  He,  too,  had  been  held  to 
answer,  but  before  the  highest  court, —  for  his  harsh 
legalism,  for  his  unsympathetic  heart,  for  his  blind  leader 
ship  of  the  blind. 

How  strange  were  the  issues  of  life!  This  leaflike 
shadow  of  a  woman,  her  mortal  existence  hanging  by  a 
thread,  had  withstood  the  shock  for  which  the  minister 
had  feared  and  risen  strong  above  it.  She  still  had 
strength  to  bear  and  strength  to  give.  But  the  proud, 
stern  father  had  crumpled  and  died. 

Again  there  was  the  sound  of  sobbing  in  the  church; 
but  the  intimates  of  Mrs.  Burbeck  quickly  gathered  round 
and  screened  the  group  of  mourners  from  the  eyes  of  the 
people  who  filed  quietly  out  of  the  building.  For  a  time 
the  steady  tramp  of  feet  upon  the  gallery  stairs,  with  the 
snort  and  cough  of  motor-cars  outside,  resounded  harshly, 
and  then  the  church  was  emptied.  Rollie  had  taken  his 
mother  away.  Rose,  Dick,  and  Tayna  were  gone.  The 
huge  chair  by  the  end  of  the  communion  table  was  emptied 
of  its  burden.  That,  too,  was  gone.  All  the  wreckage, 
all  the  past,  was  gone. 

The  old  sexton  stood  sadly  by  the  vestibule  door,  his 
hand  upon  the  light  switch,  waiting  the  pleasure  of  his 
pastor  for  the  last  time. 

Absently,  John  Hampstead  climbed  the  pulpit  stairs  and 
stood  leaning  on  the  pulpit  itself,  surveying  in  farewell  the 
empty  pews  and  the  empty,  groined  arches.  They  had 
stood  for  something  that  he  had  tried  to  do  and  failed; 
but  he  would  try  again  more  humbly,  more  in  the  fear  of 
God,  more  in  the  spirit  of  one  who  had  turned  failure  into 
victory. 


THE  ELDER  IN  THE  CHAIR  521 

Standing  thus,  looking  thus,  reflecting  thus,  John  heard 
a  soft  step  upon  the  pulpit  stair.  It  was  Bessie,  who  had 
lingered  in  appreciative  silence,  the  faithful,  indulgent 
companion  of  her  lover's  mood.  As  she  approached,  the 
rapt  man  swung  out  his  arm  to  enfold  her,  and  they  stood 
together,  both  leaning  upon  the  pulpit. 

"  To-night  one  ministry  has  ended,"  John  said  pres 
ently  ;  "  to-morrow  another  shall  begin/' 

"And  it  will  be  a  better  ministry,"  breathed  Bessie 
softly,  "  because  there  are  two  of  us." 

"  And  they  twain  shall  become  one  flesh." 


THE   END 


By  the  Author  of  "Held  to  Answer" 


THOSE 
WHO  HAVE  COME  BACK 


By  PETER  CLARK  MACFARLANE 

i  Illustrated.     269  pages.     $1.35  net 


To  read  a  book  like  this  gives  one  a  fresh  supply  of  hope  and 
faith.  — Albany  Press. 

There  is  a  note  of  robust  optimism  in  Peter  Clark  Macfarlane's 
stories  of  "Those  Who  Have  Come  Back." — Boston  Herald. 

Stories  of  unfortunates  who  worked  out  their  own  salvation 
by  the  intelligent  help  of  others.  — St.  Louis  Globe-Democrat. 

All  the  seven  stories  have  a  "punch"  in  them  because  the 
author  has  seen  the  real  tragedies  of  life  and  has  written  from  his 
heart.  —  San  Francisco  Chronicle. 

Shows  a  deep  understanding  of  the  underworld  and  a  wide 
sympathy  of  its  denizens.  .  .  .  The  book  is  a  remarkable  docu 
ment  in  every  sense  of  the  word.  —  Boston  Transcript. 

A  book  of  intense  human  interest.  The  book  is  somewhat 
parallel  to  Harold  Beglie's  "Twice-Born  Men,"  which  created 
a  sensation  some  years  ago.  It  is  American,  not  English,  however. 
Several  of  the  men  were  reached  by  the  gospel.  The  story  of 
them  all  is  told  by  a  master  o'  narrative  with  compelling  power. 
—  Springfield  (Mass.)  Republican. 


LITTLE,  BROWN  &   CO.,  PUBLISHERS 

34  BEACON  STREET,  BOSTON 


LD  2l-loo/n-8,'34 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


